Change in the Wind
by veiland
Summary: Stephanie is left alone in Trenton with the RangeMen while Ranger is in the wind, Joe's undercover, and Tank, Lester, and Bobby are busy elsewhere. How does this impact her life & what changes will she make to be with the man she loves. Can she handle being alone? Will she ever make a choice? Will she finally live up to her potential? MATURE situations . BABE HEA, Cupcake friendly.
1. Tank's Had ENOUGH!

**A/N: OK Everyone! This is my very first FanFic, so I am looking for reviews and feedback. A beta would be really good too! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Tank's had enough**

**Tank's POV**

I pull up to the scene of the latest Bombshell near miss (or should that be near hit?) and sit quietly in the truck for a moment processing the scene. Bombshell is in the middle of a shouting match with the Cop, tears running down her cheeks, blood everywhere, left leg looking….odd. Trenton PD is doing the DtD (door-to-door) for witnesses, Trenton FD is putting the fire out, and the EMTs are trying to convince Bombshell to allow them to treat her.

I snort. _Typical_.

Bobby is already halfway to Steph, medic's bag in hand. He does the quick check then stares intently at her leg. I watch and it becomes clear, from the way Steph screams when he touches it, that she's either fractured or severely bruised her leg. Probably both. They walk (OK, Steph hobbles) to the ambulance where Bobby allows the EMTs to bandage Bombshell's arm, leg, and head and makes the usual promise of watching over her to prevent her being transported to St. Francis.

I walk over silently, my very size and presence reinforcing the decision, not that the EMTs fight about it anymore. They know Steph isn't going to go to the hospital, but they are required to at least offer to transport her. I do my own check of her injuries. Hmm…arm required stitches. So I'm guessing she hit the ground hard and slid, which would explain the stitches. Superficial lacerations to the head and leg….head looks like a bullet grazed her and leg from sliding on the ground. Soo…stitches for the head and arm, gauze for the leg.

She lived. Somewhere, another kitty just died to donate another nine lives to Bombshell.

Ranger's been gone, in the wind as Lula says, for 3 days. 72 hours and Bombshell's already managed to get injured. This has to stop. I can't take it. I'm not a drama queen like the cop but I do send Ella to Costco for Maalox, PepcidAC, and Tums whenever Ranger leaves town for an extended amount of time. Apparently, she's run into Joe a few times doing the same thing. The Maalox is not doing a lot of good for either of us; the solution is a little more complicated than that.

Steph has to make the changes necessary to do this job but I can't force her to do it. I want genuine change, not a half-assed motion. I want genuine change for her sake, because I'm afraid one day I'll show up at this scene too late. I want genuine change because she's great at the research end of being a BEA, spectacular even (and I don't give praise lightly) but she's shit at take-down procedures. I want, _I need_ her to change because I'm tired of Ranger going in the wind. I want to see them happy together, but as long as Steph continues to make these dumbass moves, _Someday_ is just that.

Yeah, I know about _Someday_.

"You OK, Little Girl?"

"Yeah," she replies. "It wasn't my fault!"

I'm not answering that. The front door is off the hinges, her car is still smoldering, and she's injured. No, these things individually might not be her fault, but I'm guessing that somewhere in the explanation, I'll pinpoint the parts that are.

"Are you dressed?"

"Umm…" She bites her lip and looks away and I have my answer. No. Even the Cop looks disgusted then walks off.

"Who's the skip?" Bobby asks.

"Thomas Mann. I know he's a bit higher than my usual, but…." The pain pills are starting to kick in. I pull her to me while Bobby grabs her purse. I start walking her over to the SUV when the Cop appears in front of us.

"Steph, you can't leave the scene yet. We still need to get a statement from you. Plus, we're still trying to estimate the damage. I need you to stick around for a bit."

"Joe, I'm tired, I'm injured, and the pain pills are starting to kick in. You aren't going to get a clear statement out of me right now, so let's just do this in the morning." Bombshell is leaning heavily on me and starting to slur her words, a sure sign that the pain pills are kicking in.

"Fine. You headed back to your apartment?" Damn, the Cop is persistent. She's five minutes from being asleep and he's holding up progress.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow Joe."

"I'll be by later tonight to check on you. I'll stash a pizza in the fridge."

"Great. Thanks, Joe." Hmm….intel said the two were in an off phase. The Cop didn't make any attempts to wheedle an overnight stay so intel might be correct. Then again we've seen this before. I'll label it unconfirmed.

Bobby is still looking at her leg in concern. I catch his eye and nod. He picks her up and holds her in the back seat while we travel to St. Francis for a MRI of her leg. We have special permissions at the hospital and since Steph is already out cold, we won't have to argue with her about getting the test done. I have Steph's Medical Power of Attorney while Ranger's away and Bobby clearly thinks this needs to happen, so it will.

He calls the orthopedic surgeon then calls ahead to the radiology department so we won't have to wait. The radiologist is quick and efficient and after studying the output, the surgeon diagnoses Steph with a hairline fracture of the tibia, not a major break, but she will need complete bed rest for 2 weeks with moderate activity and physical therapy for 10 weeks. Lovely. He puts Steph's leg in a walking boot and we leave. Steph slept through the entire thing.

The ride to Steph's apartment is silent. I carry her up the stairs while Bobby opens the door and does the intruder check. All clear. He preps her for bed (the only man in the company Ranger will allow to undress Bombshell and even then she better be injured) and we clear the floor of clothes and shoes. Bobby leaves more pain meds and a note on the nightstand and we lock her in.

"What's her FTA wanted for?" Bobby asks.

"No idea. I need to pick up our FTAs from Vinnie, so let's make a stop at the Bonds Office." I reply. "You mind going in?"

Bobby gives me the side eye. "Not running from Lula, are you?"

"No." **Yes! **Something in my voice must've given me away because Bobby smirks, then shivers. I understand. Vincent Plum Bail Bonds is not a place one goes to for anything other than business. I love Lula but during the workday I need her in small doses. Connie is alright and could run that office without Vinnie ever coming in, but there's something about her that keeps me on my toes. Vinnie…hard to believe he and Bombshell share the same lineage at any point, but he mostly amuses me. Hard to take a man seriously once you've heard about the ducks. I do respect him though; the man was a good BEA at one point….wonder why he stopped?

I stop outside the Bonds Office and wait. Everything in the neighborhood seems to be OK; no suspicious individuals lurking about. Bobby returns with the files and I turn back toward RangeMan.

"Hmm…Thomas Mann, wanted for arson and assault. Bond set at $45,000," right under our threshold, "priors include armed robbery, B&E, assault…hmm…." Bobby skims down the rap sheet. Doesn't matter. This is the sort of FTA we've repeatedly asked Steph to let us help her on. The public indecency, shoplifting, public intoxication, minor crime individuals she can handle without a problem, but guys like this are the ones she needs muscle for. Now I'm irritated all over again.

"Arson?"

"Yeah…..beat up his girlfriend's lover, slapped the shit outta her, and then went over to the guy's house later that night and set it on fire."

"And he got bail?"

"Well, the girlfriend swears he was with her, but the guy's neighbors saw him running from the house and were able to ID his car."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

* * *

The rest of the day I spend in admin work. I hate when Ranger leaves. I'm stuck with the admin work that Ranger normally gets, which means my 10-hour workday usually morphs into a 14-16 hour workday. That leaves me with no real personal time. Three to four years ago, that didn't really bug me, but now that it seems we may be in Trenton for a while, I'm starting to resent it. The reason why is simple.

Steph is the cause.

When I'm irritated with her, she's Steph or Stephanie in my head. Lately I'm irritated a **lot**, although I'm trying mightily not to let it show. After a couple of fights, Lula is steering clear of me. Fuck! Gonna have to smooth that over later. And just when I almost had her convinced that "we" were worth taking the allergy shots. Bobby clearly picked up on it today which means that Lester almost certainly has figured it out. Nothing gets by him. When Ranger is "in the wind," the three of us have to hold the fort and lately, it's tearing us apart.

The simple fact of the matter is as much as I love Little Girl, and I do love her, if it weren't for Ranger's orders I would have fired her cute ass long ago. I don't care how you put it; Steph has no respect for the lives of the men she adores. She's a great researcher but she refuses to do anything to proactively get better on the physical side of her job. She keeps relying on dumb luck to survive and one day that shit will run out.

She went after a dangerous FTA today **without a gun** and probably with absolutely **no** backup plan except a smile and hope. Result? She was bullet grazed twice and she fractured her tibia, which means she's out of commission for the next 3-4 months. She's routinely outrun by even elderly skips and is constantly pelted with garbage and falls into ….well, everything. I don't count the Stephanie Plum car graveyard; those truly aren't her fault.

It's hard, painful really, to see someone I care about so much stumble and fall in this job. But she doesn't fail. The 98.5% capture record (or 100% depending on how you count) is a testament to that but the injuries are out-sized. Still, I fully expect to see her within the next week to work in the office doing searches.

That gives me 3-4 months to figure out what to do. Ranger's current orders call for a one year deployment, unless he can finish the job faster, so I've got some time to work with. I think fast and call Lester for a favor. Shit, I hate owing Lester. . . unless. . . I call Bobby to join us. 2200 means pulling the beer.

Lester shows up first irritated and not bothering to hide it. Apparently, I woke him out of a dead sleep, so he's gonna make my ass pay for it.

"This shit better be good and it better be fucking important. That was the first real sleep I've gotten in three days and if this is a call to hang out cuz you're lonely, then fuck it."

Yup, dead asleep. I hand him a beer and he scowls at me. Whatever follow-up sally was coming is halted with the appearance of Bobby in my apartment. He too looks dead tired and irritated.

"Before you even say it, grab a beer and let me talk." They both take a seat and chug. Silence reigns. I know I need to say something here, but I'm not sure how to begin.

"I've had it with this shit." Bobby says quietly, cutting me off before I can say anything and I'm wondering if I'm about to be yelled at. "No, Tank, I mean it. I think I know where you're about to go with this and I'm in agreement. I've had it with Bomber's shit."

Whoa. Thank you God. I appreciate that. Any other miracles you wanna throw my way?

"When Ranger's here, we protect his woman at all costs and when he's not we do the same but the cost is getting too fucking high—"

"What in the fuck are you two on?" Lester shouts. "Are you seriously telling me that's you're going to abandon Steph? We don't leave any RangeMan out with their ass twisting in the wind—"

"**Enough!"** I realize I better put a stop to Lester's tirade before he really gets going. Lester has a true soft spot for Steph and if Ranger weren't in the picture Lester woulda been in those panties a looong time ago. "Lester, I love Steph too, but you weren't at today's scene with me and Bobby and let me tell you, this shit really is getting old. Steph went after a FTA who's on bail for arson and assault. She had no backup. She wasn't armed. Today's losses include a front door, her car, and her tibia. Let's look at this objectively. If that was Hal, or Cal, or Binky, what would the punishment be? Immediate termination, that's what.

But because it's Steph, we patch her up and take her home. If she hadn't broken her leg, one of us would meet her at her apartment tomorrow and every day until she got the guy. Probably still will because he's still her FTA. Because of the high likelihood of injuries, we now pay double time for Bombshell duty and that's a bleed on the Trenton bottom line. And since we opened this office, half the men have been injured in the company of Steph at least twice. And we do it all for a woman who we love but who won't take advice, won't improve, and doesn't sleep with Ranger to improve his fucking mood. So tell me, Lester, what **exactly** does Steph do for RangeMan that is so fucking great that Ranger should continue to accept these contracts and go on missions?"

And with that, I know I've silenced him. Lester, Bobby and I are on call to the government but we rarely make ourselves available unless we all go as a team with Ranger. So, I go all the way and level with my two business partners; hell, they need to know. Ranger makes himself available but only when cash reserves for RangeMan LLC dip below $75 million. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the little known but very ugly secret behind Ranger's disappearances. Steph bleeds RangeMan Trenton to the point that when cash reserves for the company as a whole dip below $75 million, Ranger goes in the wind to make up the difference. If Steph actually became an asset to the fucking company instead of an open sore, Ranger might never need to go in the wind again.

This is also a fact that we are keeping from the other branches. The XO at each branch may or may not know or understand why Trenton is constantly having trouble with the bottom line, but I'm starting to hear grumbling that lets me know that they probably have figured it out and they resent it. While Bombshell stories are great for company morale and keep the company attuned and interested in the top leadership, the bottom line is we are not a charity. If we charged Little Girl every time we helped her, she'd owe **us** money.

Guarding Steph, helping her with her FTAs, and providing backup has actually put the master plan for this company behind 2.5 years. At this point, we should have had the San Antonio office up and running and scouting our move into Detroit, but we can't because we can't build up the money. Buying the two silent partners out meant having to rebuild the cash reserves. Steph's lack of focus is one of the many reasons Ranger won't even consider _Someday_. She's her own worst enemy.

My business partners, my buddies, fuck it, my _brothers_ are floored. Ranger would **never** willingly reveal the reason for his constant disappearances to them without a gun to the head but I love him enough to do it for him. They need to know. They need to understand why I've just revealed all that shit. Lester needs to understand why Ranger keeps putting off the move to the San Antonio branch. Bobby needs to understand why his liaison duties with the other 4 offices are getting more difficult.

We need more honesty among us. The kids stealing from the company was a bad moment for all of us, causing us to doubt each other for the very first time and if we are ever going to come together again, we have to start trusting each other again. Ranger can kick my ass when he gets home for telling Lester and Bobby what I have, but at least when he gets home, there should be less frustration and mistrust among us.

Lester is still quiet, staring at his beer. I know that he knows that I'm right about all of it, but he has the same fear that we all have: if we push Little Girl, we may push her too far and she won't trust us or let us help. Well, no more. Hell, the result is the same whether or not we push her.

Bobby looks thoughtful, dangerous for Bobby. "So, if I'm following you the facts of the matter are these: Ranger is gone for the next year and Steph's leg needs at least 3 months to heal. So I expect her in the office next week or two to run searches. She won't like it, but with a fractured leg, she has no choice. So we have a year to whip her into shape. How far did you want to go with this, Tank?"

Lester butts in before I can say anything. "So, you two wanna kick her while she's down? Jeez, some friends you are."

"Yeah, I'm going to kick her ass while she's already down and feeling sorry for herself for a few reasons. One: If she's already down there's nowhere else to go. Two: No matter what we do, the moment we confront her, she'll immediately go into denial land and avoid us for a few days, if not a week. Three: the sooner we get started, the better off we'll be. If Ranger comes back earlier, before we've had a chance to make some changes, then she'll use him as cover to backslide like she always does. In Ranger's absence, I'm in charge and I'm not Ranger and I won't treat her like Ranger does." I'm firm on this. She's not my woman; at best, she's my little sister and I'll be the first to build her up, but a 30-year old woman needs to grow up.

"Lester, be honest with yourself," Bobby says. "She's a RangeMan, yes, but she's a RangeMan who eats contraband in full view of the rest of the office. How does that show respect for the leadership, for Ranger, to openly flout his rules with no reprisal? Yeah, she can make a dead man wanna pound nails from the noises that she makes, but in the meantime who takes the rules seriously? Hell, even you've been caught with contraband in your office when Bomber's around. She doesn't meet the physical requirements and doesn't log any range time. Again, it's a respect thing. She hides behind Ranger when he's around to get out of it, but if she's going to be in the office for the next year, she has to play by the same rules. Hell, even Tia Ella logs range time and she hates guns as much as Bomber but she respects the rules. And if you think we're being unfair, ask yourself: How long would Ranger allow Zip to get away with this shit? Hector? Manny? If the answer is he wouldn't then Bomber can't either."

Damn. I owe Bobby. I'm not even having to make the argument. Our eyes meet and we share a quick nod. Yeah, I've got a partner; he's tired of patching her up, tired of driving to the scene of the latest disaster, tired of. . . everything.

"Yeah. . . I mean, I know you're right. . . but. . ." Lester stares off, unwilling or unable to finish that sentence. I know how he feels. He finally looks at the two of use with resolve. . . "Look, what I know is this. You guys are right. She doesn't play by RangeMan rules and part of it is because she's not a RangeMan. I mean, she is but she wasn't military. She doesn't have the training we have, the standards we've adopted. And that's a blessing because when we've needed her, when those fucking kids were robbing us and our name was being dragged through the mud, she could think outside the box to catch them.

No matter what, when Ranger needed her, she was there. When we need her, she's there. When we've called her in to run distractions, she's been there. She has a way of handling situations that is unique to her and she's damn good at it. But you're right. At the core of the problem is a respect issue for the company and Ranger and, fuck it, herself really and Ranger's so fucking gone on her he either doesn't realize or doesn't care anymore but something has to be done." He sucks in a deep breath, like this is painful, and says, "So, I'm in."

I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. At the end of the day, I can enforce all the shit I want, but I need Lester's brilliant mind to help me plan this. Without him, I'd probably handle this all the wrong way.

"Thank you." I mean this. Lester has no idea how much it means to me to have him on board. "So, where do we go from here?"

"Well, first thing first, we have to plan tonight." Bobby says.

"Tonight?!" Lester and I are both stunned. Its 0100 and we're both on deck at 0700.

"Yes, tonight. If we handle this right, by the time Ranger comes back, we'll have Bomber situated and San Antonio up and running. We owe it to each other, and him, to make this happen."

"And it's gotta happen tonight?" Lester asks. Shit, I'm tired too, dude.

"Yeah, and here's why. Tomorrow Bomber's gonna wake up with her leg in a cast that she doesn't remember getting. She'll get out of bed and try to go about her day and if we aren't there when she wakes up, she'll make that fracture worse. So if we confront her while she's still on bed rest, then she can spend the mandatory time in bed in Denial land and after a week or two of bed rest, when she comes out of Denial land, we can get her started on whatever we plan tonight."

Damn. I gotta go to church on Sunday. Bobby is more devious than I thought. Now I need to back him up.

"True. At some point, we're leaving Trenton. I'm sick of this town and I know I'm not the only one. My original goal was to move to San Antonio permanently so I could be close to my family in Louisiana. Right now, we are all marooned in Trenton. So we need to start thinking about moving some members of the B-Team up. The guys need to feel that there's room for advancement in this company. We need to start moving people around within the company. And that starts tonight. We start planning Steph's improvement tonight. We call Ram, Manny and Hal in to run the whole shebang tomorrow. We plot and plan for the next 7 hours, leave the orders with the team, then go to Steph's and confront her. Come back, get some sleep and start thinking about our move west. Les, you still got the plans?"

Lester looks dazed. "Yeah, I got them."

"Pull 'em out of deep freeze. We're moving on it. You ready?"

"Yeah." The dazed and confused look is replaced with a look of determination. Something in Les has shifted and he is fully on board. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's plan."


	2. Negotiations (and more) Begin

**A/N**: I can't believe all the wonderful support I received from the first chapter! Thank you so much. I'm still on the search for a beta, if anyone wants to volunteer!

**Chapter 2: Negotiations (And More) Begin**

**Steph's POV**

_11:41 PM_

OWWW! The pain in my leg is so bad it wakes me out of a dead sleep. Actually, everything hurts but the leg hurts most. I look down and there's a cast on my leg. What the hell? Where did this come from? I notice a Dixie cup, a bottle of water, and a note on the bedside table. Bobby's handwriting.

_Steph,_

_TRY NOT TO MOVE AROUND! You have a hairline fracture of the tibia and moving around is only going to make it worse, so try to move as little as possible. If you can hobble to the fridge to eat the pizza Morelli promised to leave, have a few slices, then take 2 of the long white pills and 1 (and ONLY 1) of the round white pills and get back into bed. If it hurts too much to stand, call me. If you wake up in pain, you can take that same dosage every 8 hours. Do not mix it with other medication (birth control excluded) and absolutely no alcohol. I'll see you in the morning._

_Bobby_

Thank god for Bobby. I see he's left plenty of each kind of pill, so I swing my legs out of the bed and hobble to the kitchen. The effort required takes my breath away and leaves me with tears on my face. Oh god, I've never known pain like this.

Joe came through for me. The Pino's supreme is in the fridge waiting on me, so I heat up two slices and follow it up with plenty of water. I'd really like to take a shower, but since Bobby said not to move a lot I guess that's out. The answering machine is blinking furiously but I'm running out of the energy required to listen so I hobble back to my bed. 3 pills later and I'm off to Denial land.

* * *

_8:30 AM_

Man, those pills are fantastic. You have about 10 minutes of consciousness before they kick in, just enough time to get comfy. However, Nature is calling me and I need to answer the call. Strong arms pull me up and hold me around the waist to help me navigate into the bathroom.

"Thanks Bobby."

"Not quite Bobby Beautiful, but you're welcome." Lester says, grinning. "Tank and Bobby are warming things in your kitchen, so scrub up and join us."

I make quick work of the bathroom. I mean, I can't cover the cast so I can't take a shower, so I brush my teeth, comb the scary hair, and hobble out. Lester picks me up and plops me in a chair in the kitchen. The guys are saints; there are two beautiful Boston Cream doughnuts waiting for me and a frappucino from Starbucks. Lovely. I scarf down my delicious breakfast and notice the room has gone quiet. All three are staring at me, eyes dilated, and I realized that perhaps I should tone it down. "Sorry guys. Thanks for breakfast, this was perfect."

Tank is the first to respond (is Lester drooling?). "No problem Little Girl. How's the leg feel?"

"Are the words 'Like Shit' appropriate?"

Tank smiles. "Perhaps not quite appropriate, but definitely descriptive."

"Well, like shit it is."

We finish breakfast in silence (well, near silence) and Lester washes the dishes while Bobby carries me to my bathroom. After a quick exam and review of pain levels, Bobby pulls out the waterproof cast he brought over, shows me how to use it and leaves so I can shower.

Oh man, this is heaven and hell. The bruises and scrapes I got from diving away from the house sting and burn, so I have to reduce the water temp and I can feel the sting of the stitches again. I move carefully in the shower, scrubbing at some spots and patting others until I feel clean again. I spend about 15 minutes in the shower before I feel the water starting to go cold, so I carefully climb out and head to the closet. I'm trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

"Need help, Bomber?"

"Nope, I'm good Bobby. I can manage most of this."

"Well, look, if you need help lemme know. I brought over some sweats with a drawstring if you don't have anything you can get your leg into."

I'm a lot of things but I'm not stupid. I have all three available members of the core team in my living room and, despite not a word being said, I know something is up. It's not Ranger related (they would have said something before now if it were) so I'm assuming it has to do with me. My only question is: Is this going to be unpleasant? I have a cast on my leg, stitches on my arm and head and I'm in pain everywhere, so I'm thinking that this conversation is going to be about my doing searches in the office until my butt is numb and I'm ready to climb the walls. I hate the thought but it's not like I have any other options. If I can't chase skips, I don't earn money, so I have to work for RangeMan.

"Hey Bobby?"

"Yeah? Need the sweats?"

"Yeah."

Bobby opens the bedroom door and sticks his hand containing the sweats through. The guys always think of everything. I hobble back into the bathroom, subdue my hair into submission, and put on 3 coats of mascara. I'm thinking I'm going to need every coat. Finally, there isn't anything left for me to do, so I hobble back out to the living room. As expected, they're still there. Bobby's on the end of the couch, Lester is sitting on the floor at the other end, and Tank has taken up position in a chair directly across from the sofa. No, this isn't going to be pretty. The guys share a look and Bobby turns to me.

"So, let me start with your current state. You currently have a hairline fracture of the tibia, which is the bone that runs from your knee to your ankle. Your shinbone, Steph. This is a delicate fracture which can turn into a break if you aren't careful and if it doesn't heal properly you will feel it for the rest of your life. So, as of this moment, you are on complete bed rest for 2 weeks and you'll need physical therapy for 10 weeks after that."

I don't care how nicely Bobby tried to put that, he's gone insane.

"**ARE YOU KIDDING ME**? Two weeks complete bed rest?! I'll go insane in that amount of time. There has to be something else that you can do to fix it! Besides, I can't afford to be on bed rest! I have skips to catch, bills to pay—"

"And your leg needs to heal Steph!" Tank and Bobby yell back.

"Sorry Beautiful, but you need to decide right now what's more important, your health or your bills?" Lester says softly.

"That's not an either/or situation, Lester! I have bills! I have to be able to pay them! I don't have time to be laid up."

"Steph, the fact of the matter is you are **going** to be laid up for the next two weeks. Otherwise you'll have a **broken** leg and broken legs take a **lot** longer to heal. So again, what's important to you?" Bobby says.

The constant use of the word "Steph" is a clue that this isn't going to be a great conversation. "Guys, I know you don't see things the same way I do—"

"You're right Steph, we're looking at the bigger picture," Tank says. "The most important thing to us is your health. All else is secondary. Bobby has told you what you need to know in order to heal, but you're still arguing about it as if arguing about it is going to make a damn bit of difference. The only decision right now is if you want to be out for 2 weeks with a fracture or 2 months with a break."

I don't want to cry but I can feel the tears in my eyes. I don't like either option and neither option pays my bills and the guys don't seem to care about that and-

"Please stop, Beautiful," Lester says softly. "If we didn't care, we wouldn't be here. We've always been here to help when you've needed us and this is no exception."

He passes the Kleenex to me and I start crying. I miss Ranger. These are the moments I miss Ranger the most. I can cry in front of Ranger without feeling like an idiot. I mean, Lester is great and all and he's doing a good job of holding me, but I don't smell Bvlgari, so he's falling short in the comfort department. Plus, Ranger would've told me that I could come work at RangeMan by now and live on the 7th floor, so I wouldn't have to feel like I was begging for a job and help. I have so few ways to preserve my pride and independence and Ranger understands that.

He always understands.

I hear a sigh (OK, I sense a sigh….Merry Men don't give much away) over my shoulder and brace myself. "Steph, perhaps we haven't stated this well," Bobby says. "We wanted you to understand how important it was to take care of your health, but we weren't going to leave you out there to starve or lose your apartment. Even though you have to be on bed rest, there's nothing stating that the bed can't be on the 7th floor of RangeMan, where I can check up on you during the day and Ella can help you dress and eat. We can bring you a laptop so you can run searches and do other admin work. Hell, the most important part of the 'bed rest' mandate is keeping your leg elevated and immobile so the bone can heal, so how about I make you a deal?"

I finally have the sniffles under control, so I turn to look at him. "What's the deal?"

Bobby hides a smile and passes me a handkerchief. Damn, I must look scary again. "If you can make 1 week on total bed rest, during week two, I'll set your cubicle up with a sling to keep your leg elevated and immobile so you can be on the floor with everyone else. Sound good?"

Ranger would've gotten to that part a hell of a lot faster. "Yeah…. But I don't know about living at Rangeman."

"Well," Tank says, "it's your choice, but it's the best available option. On the 7th floor you have Ella to help you shower and eat. You have a comfortable bed. You have plenty of people downstairs who would be thrilled to keep you company when you get bored. You have work you can do from the bed. If you stay here, then we'll have to start a roster for Bombshell duty. The guys will have to travel here to spend time with you and your internet connection sucks, so it will take all day for you to run searches that usually only take an hour. You'll be tempted to get out of bed more than necessary and you wouldn't have any ability to fight off unwanted visitors. You could stay with Morelli—"

"Nope, we're off. I'm trying to encourage him to see that as a permanent thing. Me laid up in his bed for weeks won't help." No need to tell them the true state of my relationship with Joe. I don't miss the silent look that passes between the three of them, but I'm too tired from crying to call them out on it.

Lester picks up. "OK, Morelli is out. I gotta say, I don't like the option of your parents' but it's your choice. One bathroom, stairs to navigate, dial-up internet, your Mom hovering with applications to the button factory—"

"Thanks, Les. You're doing a great job of selling Mom's as a recovery home." Ah sarcasm, there you are.

There's no shame in Lester's answering grin. "Sorry Beautiful, but I really was trying to find an advantage and I couldn't find one. Not to mention your Granny means that the men aren't going to want to visit without assurances that their asses will remain unmolested and your Granny has no shame. Or restraint."

Point taken. Game, set, match. Looks like I'm staying at RangeMan until I'm mobile again, but I'm not going down without a fight.

"Fine, I'll move to RangeMan, but only on two conditions."

"Name them." Tank says.

"One of you, at minimum, has to go with me to dinner at my parents' house tonight." I see the barely concealed grimaces on Tank and Bobby's faces and I'm assuming Lester is no exception. "Come on, it's not going to be pretty. By now, my parent's phone line has rung non-stop with the report from yesterday's adventures" that gets a snort from Tank, "and I haven't called yet to say anything. I'm sure I have a summons to dinner tonight on my voicemail, so I might as well get it over with. If I move to RangeMan without explaining anything, you can expect to see my Mom and Grandma at RangeMan the moment the news hits—"

"OK, Ok ok," Tank says, looking pale. I think the idea of my mother **and** Grandma showing up has scared him. Again, I watch the ESP discussion around me and, yup, it appears that Bobby is definitely the loser here….wait, the discussion continues….."Alright, Bobby and I both will accompany you to dinner tonight." I can feel Lester grin behind me. "So, we're agreed, then. You'll come work for RangeMan for the next 12 weeks-"

"Wait, wait wait, 12 weeks? I'm only on bed rest for 2."

"2 weeks of bed rest, Bomber, and 10 weeks of physical therapy. Remember? So you aren't going to be chasing skips for three months. Even once you get the cast off, we have to ease you back into moving on that leg so you heal completely. Not to mention the stitches in your arm and head need to heal and the road rash you got from sliding along the ground." Damn Bobby and his medical expertise. And I haven't forgotten that I had a second condition.

"There was a second condition."

Tank hesitates this time. Visions of Grandma are probably dancing in his head.

"The guys are great and all, but I'm not going to survive without female companionship. I want to be able to have Lula, Connie and Mary Lou visit me too." This time the silence lasts longer and the ESP conversation is quieter. I sense a fight on my hands.

"I really can't give you that one, Steph" Tank says. I open my mouth and Tank raises a hand to stop me. "Seriously, you'll be staying in Ranger's apartment, an apartment to which no one except the people in this room, and Ella, have key fobs. Most of the men in the company have never even been up there, let alone inside. That's Ranger's sanctuary and it's his personal private space. I don't have a problem with you living there because that's his preference, but I cannot and will not open his home up to everyone without his knowledge. Shit…" he glances at Bobby, who is silent. More ESP conversation ensues.

"Alright, here's the deal. During week one you have to stay in bed, so you can work from 7. We'll bring you down during certain periods, like lunch, so you can visit with everyone. During week 2, you'll be on the floor with the guys, so you'll have plenty of companionship and if you want to visit with the girls, we'll setup a conference room on 3 for you and cut the audio and video feeds. How's that?"

Hmm…my living on 7 is Ranger's preference? Something to think about later. "What about an apartment on 4?"

"Nothing open. We have a new hire coming on in four days that just got out the military and he's taking the last available apartment. We promised it to him in writing."

It sucks but I see his predicament. Honestly, I like the fact that Ranger's 7th floor apartment is a mystery to most people. If it were available to everyone to visit then I would have to hear comments from Lula and Connie about how it's decorated, how they would redecorate it and there would be never ending questions about what's gone down in Ranger's bedroom, which I don't want to answer (and don't have any answers to). I definitely don't want to put up with that. If my mom or grandma ever found out I could have visitors while in bed, Mom wouldn't stop until she were allowed to visit every day to comfort and care for me (read: nag the hell out of me) and inspect the place to find out if it's up to her standards and Grandma Mazur would paw through **all** of Ranger's stuff, which would definitely piss him off. Mary Lou might be the only person who would respect Ranger's home and stuff…yeah, better that no one has access. I try to think of an alternative but I can't. I don't want to live anywhere else (promising me Ella was enough to move me to 7) and knowing that I can work to do searches to pay my rent means I won't be completely broke. It's the best option. Hell, it's really my only option.

"OK. I give. I'll move to 7." I get three huge grins for an answer and, for a moment, I'm struck by how gorgeous the guys are.

I want to see a RangeMan employment contract. I'm certain there's a physical attributes clause in there that only the muscled and gorgeous need apply.

Laughter. Great, I said that out loud.

"Yeah you did, Bomber, but thanks for the compliment." Bobby pulls three beers and a soda from my fridge. "Let's toast to your recovery and residence with us."

"Hear hear!"

I take a long swig from my Coke and lean back. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Ranger would've gotten there faster, but in the end I still get to live on 7 while I recover. Not bad.

"Now, let's get to the business end of this discussion, Bombshell."

What that F-?!

* * *

**Tank's POV**

Last night, Les, Bobby and I decided that the discussion with Steph was going to need to take a certain direction. No matter what, I'm the authority. Bobby and Les can make all the concessions and negotiations, but at the end of the day, Steph and I are the ones who are going to have to come to the agreement. If I'm going to set the expectation with her that I'm the one in authority, then she can't be allowed to think that whining will work with me. Besides which, right now I don't have the temper to deal with it. So Lester will be the soft touch, good cop if you will. Bobby will be the bad cop. I am the voice of cold hard facts. Everyone has a part to play.

The hardest part about this morning? Talking. It calls for a helluva lot of talking. The government has trained me not to talk. This is gonna be difficult.

So step 1 was separating her medical needs from the business discussion we need to have. Now that she's conceded to everything that we wanted (we anticipated the female visitors question and had a response ready for that. The ESP discussion was just for show), we can start on her role at RangeMan. Her face shows fear and apprehension. Clearly, she wasn't anticipating this curveball. Good. Steph's so damn intuitive that we'll have to stay a step ahead just to keep pace with her.

"What happened yesterday?"

Steph looks down at her fingers. She knows she fucked up badly and doesn't want to admit it but we have to start somewhere.

"Well, I got the file 5 days ago from Connie. It's taken me that long just to figure out where to find him. In the end, Mary Lou called Becky Latham, who was a cheerleader with Nancy, Thomas Mann's girlfriend. Becky said she spotted Nancy, leaving a house in Ewing when she went to pick up her kids from her ex-husband. So I checked it out and found on that Nancy's cousin, Sue lives there. I didn't see Thomas so I called my cousin Francie, who told me that Sue's cousin Drew lives in Franklin Park and that Drew and Thomas are drinking buddies. They went drinking last night at a bar and I don't know what time they got home because I left at midnight. So I went yesterday morning hoping that he was still hung over and that I could cuff him and get him downtown. I mean every other drunk hung over skip comes along quietly as long as I stop talking loud so I wasn't expecting any trouble."

Inside I'm trying to decide if I want to laugh or shake her silly. Bobby's reaction is easier to read. He's pissed. Lester is the wild card. He's…well, I can't tell. I think that he's having almost the same reaction I am. He can't decide if he wants to yell at her or leave.

"Beautiful, when did you decide that your life doesn't matter?" Lester asks softly. What?! This is a deviation from the plan. I can't get any eye contact with Lester and Bobby looks as alarmed and confused as me. Dammit Santos! We had a plan. It was going beautifully. Then again, Lester is renowned for his ability to improvise on his feet, so I'm going to go with it. Please Lord, don't let him fuck it up.

"Lester, that isn't fair. I followed him around. I expected him to be drunk and hung over—"

"Sorry Beautiful, but I'm not buying that." Ah, Lester has decided on pissed. Another deviation from plan. WTH? Well, I'm going to let him run this for a while. "What were his charges, Beautiful?"

"Arson…"

"Arson and assault, Beautiful, among others. The DA is still trying to decide. What are his priors?"

"Umm…" She can't remember what was in the file. She really expected him to come along quietly simply because he was drunk. Shit, anyone working in fugitive apprehension knows that the drunks and druggies are the most dangerous. They're out of their fucking minds.

"Assault, assault with a deadly, armed robbery, B&E, assault, distribution of a controlled substance, possession of a controlled substance, assault. There's more, but I can't remember all of it. I do remember 14 separate counts of assault. Lots of bar fights. Beautiful, this wasn't a guy who was going to come along quietly. This is a guy who beat the shit out of his girlfriend. He beat up the woman he loves, likes, fucks, whatever, and now you appear at the door to haul him back to jail? Did you really expect him to come along quietly?"

The tears have made a reappearance and Lester is out of character. Hello?! What happened to good cop?

"Well, no matter what I always get them, don't I? I mean, I might have to take a few blows to do it, but I always get my skip."

"Well, this time you're out of commission for three months," Bobby says. "In that amount of time—"

Lester shakes his head sharply and glares at Bobby. Oh, I get it. Bobby and Lester need to switch roles. Lester playing bad cop with her will go farther than Bobby because she and Les are so close. Bobby is the one who patches her up and makes her feel better, so he needs to play good cop. Whatever. My role hasn't changed.

"In that amount of time, what Bobby?"

I can see the beginning of rhino stage. She thinks she knows where Bobby was going to go with that sentence and she wants to go there. As long as she's angry, she doesn't have to acknowledge to us that she screwed up. She can use it as justification to kick us out of the apartment, have a pity party, then move to RangeMan when she's ready. No way, Miss Plum. We're on to you today.

"In that amount of time, Vinnie will have replaced you because as long as you're sidelined you aren't bringing in skips for him. That means that once you've recovered you'll have to either blackmail or beg Vinnie for your job back, which he might not agree to if he gets someone good to replace you. No matter what you think Little Girl, we've always admired the way you kept going and didn't allow anyone or anything to stop you, but if Vinnie finds a replacement, he's got you over a barrel. He could force you to either share or compete with the replacement for skips. And given that RangeMan gets everything over $50,000, sharing the $5,000 and $10,000 skips won't make your life any easier." Finally, I get to play. Cold hard facts, coming right up.

She glares at me. "Vinnie won't replace me. He can't. He has Joyce the skank and Lula and, no offense Tank, neither of them can match my record by a long shot."

"Before you, Little Girl, there was Morty Beyers. Hell, he replaced Morty with you and all Morty had was a busted appendix! You're good, hell you're great, outstanding, a fucking legend really, but you are, in the end, replaceable."

Facts. I like facts. This statement is met with silence. It looks like phase 2a of the plan is complete. _Get Little Girl to start considering the end of her solo BEA career_.

"We aren't trying to discourage you Beautiful—"

"Well, you don't sound like a cheer squad right now, Les! None of you do!"

"Can't help it," Lester says. "Our concerns are your health, safety and happiness. Normally we try to meet all of those equally, but when push comes to shove Beautiful, your health and safety come before your happiness. And no, we don't do it because Ranger orders us to. We do it because we care. We love you. You're like a little sister to me and all I want to do is keep you safe. You've chosen a dangerous career and you're good at it, but you still haven't answered my original question: when did you decide that your life doesn't matter? Because I'm telling you, if something happened to you, RangeMan would not be the same place. I would not be the same man."

"Neither would I," Bobby says. He holds Steph's gaze before breaking to look at me.

"Nor would I, Little Girl. Let's be clear here. You mean the world to us. You mean the world to every man back at Haywood." She's gotta be outta Kleenex at this point. I mean, jeez, she's leaked continuously for the last 30 minutes. We leave her to her tears for a few minutes before passing over our handkerchiefs. Bobby starts scouting for more Kleenex and settles for a roll of toilet paper. I check the time. 11AM. Ella is due to arrive at noon to help us pack. Gotta get the show on the road.

"So, let's talk business Little Girl." Now she looks tired and upset, but we gotta press on. We expect a week-long trip to Denial and there's no need to put it off.

"Yeah, I know. I'll be doing searches while in the office for the next 12 weeks."

"Not exactly," Lester says. Her head lifts. Interest. Good. "Searches are the minimum of what we want you to do. See, the thing is you have instincts second only to Ranger when it comes to fugitive apprehension." She looks shocked. "What, you thought Tank was blowin' smoke up your behind? He wasn't. You're great at finding skips. What you suck at is apprehension. You have no stamina, you don't know any self-defense or immobilization techniques, and you don't carry. Consistently."

Ah, welcome back rhino. We wondered where you went.

"No, let me finish. You can find them no matter where they hide. Hell, you can even find them on Stark Street and people there don't talk. But when you try to apprehend alone, or with Lula, that's where you fail unless it's one of your regulars. Think about this Beautiful. When you work with a RangeMan partner, he simply does the heavy lifting. Even when you ride with Ranger, you already know where to find them. Ranger simply helps you get them to the cop shop. When you do distractions for us, getting them isolated is the hard part. We do the dirty work for you. So why is it so hard for you to accept a RangeMan partner?"

"Because I **do** know how to apprehend my skips! I get them to the station just fine by myself or with Lula!"

"Yeah, after you've run three miles, been chased by dogs, or had garbage thrown at you. Finding them is the hard part and you excel at it. Apprehension is easy. Look at Thomas Mann! You found him but he got away clean and you've got a fracture and stitches to show for it."

"Ok, so I got injured. The point is I can do my job. **I'm not incompetent**! I have an almost perfect capture rate according to Ranger—" Steph is in full rhino mode, but the tears are falling down her cheeks. We've said something wrong.

"Wait, who said you were incompetent?" Bobby asks.

Silence, just the sounds of Steph sobbing into a tissue.

"The cops? Your mother? Joe?" Bobby asks, softly. I'm stunned too. She can't really think she's incompetent, does she? "All three?"

"The point is, I can do my job—"

"Bomber, are you saying that the reason you won't work with a RangeMan partner or for RangeMan is because you're trying to prove you're not incompetent at the job?"

"There were personal reasons too." **_Were_** personal reasons? Interesting. I catch Lester's eye and I see that he'll come back to that.

My turn. Cold hard facts ready for delivery. "Little Girl, here's the truth. Look at me." I want her eyes on me so she knows I mean every word I say. "Your mother doesn't work in fugitive apprehension, so her opinion about your competence means nothing. She can worry about your safety all she likes but she can't tell you how to do your job. You don't tell her how to make pineapple upside down cake and she can't tell you how to cuff a skip. As for the cops, half those jokers have never arrested anyone, so their cuffs are as bright and shiny as the day they were issued.

As for the detectives, they wish they had your skills at following leads and getting people to talk to them. Do you know how good your packet was when we submitted it to Trenton PD when we turned those kids in? You gave TPD and the prosecutor's office slam-dunk convictions. Everything was documented and organized. You had their motives, their methods, their plans for the stuff, and you led us right to the stolen goods. Little Girl, your work was fucking brilliant and it saved RangeMan.

Out of all the people in the world that Ranger could have asked, he asked you to help us. He didn't call in one of the guys from another office. He put the **best** available person on the job and you proved your worth. You justified, again, everything we've ever thought or said about you. You are **not** incompetent and I'll kick the ass of the next person to suggest otherwise. So if you've been refusing our help because you want to prove that you can do the job, let us, me, Les and Bobby, be your guides here. **We** work in fugitive apprehension and our opinion is that you're brilliant at the job. We just want to help you get even better."

Man, I feel tired. That was a lot of words but I couldn't help it. I move off the chair and pull Steph off Lester's lap and into mine. I stroke her back while she cries. I think the plan might be shot. After all this time, she's been hell on wheels because she's been trying to prove she's not incompetent? I really want to beat Joe and her mother up but I can't. I'll leave that for Ranger.

Steph finally stops sniffling and calms down. Once she gathered herself, she looks at each of us then says, "I get the feeling that you guys are leading up into something big and you're trying to be careful because you think I won't like it. I already know you aren't firing me and you're making me live at RangeMan, so what's the deal? What could you possibly have to tell me that's so bad that you're tiptoeing around it like this?"

Fuck! How did that turn around so fast? Lester gazes at Steph calmly for a while then squares his shoulders. Bobby and I look at each other. Nothing left to do now but follow Lester's lead into Plan F, the one we hoped we didn't need to use. Plan F: State and Explain. Repeat. State and Explain. Lots of talking.

"Alright Steph, we'll level with you." Oh god, is Lester really just gonna put it out there? "The fact is that, as much as we want you to come back to RangeMan, you have to come in as a true employee, following employee protocol, rules and directives." Yes, sweet Jesus, he is. "We've already told you how much we want you back and that hasn't changed, but we haven't told you why. It's simple: we want you to come in as head of Bond Enforcement for Trenton and as the new company-wide Director of Client Relations."

Steph stares at Les then bursts into laughter. For a full minute she's cracking up then she sobers up and looks dead at me. "Nice. I needed that. What's the real reason Tank?"

"That was the real reason."

She stares at me, then Bobby. No joking here; we're all serious. "Wha-what-Why Me? Oh God, are you kidding? There's no way I could do that job—"

"Wrong. There's no way we could continue to allow you to work for anyone but us. Like we just told you, finding skips is the hard part. Apprehension is easier. Steph, your ability to find people who don't want to be found is unparalleled. There are some huge skips within the company that are outstanding and with your expertise and training, we could use that money to grow the company and to do that, we have to improve our capture rates as a company. We want to bring in our bond enforcement people from all over the company to train with you. Logistically speaking, we're the most successful Bond enforcement company on the eastern seaboard. The company capture rate ranges between 76% and 93%, the 93% being Trenton of course. And part of that 93% is due solely to you. Whether it's distractions at a club or the details you pick out in searches, whenever you work for us, the searches you perform have given us a 100% capture rate."

Steph looks stunned. Damn, I think I see what I need to do here. She doesn't need us beating up on her. She needs more positive reinforcement and encouragement. Ranger isn't here to give it to her, so we'll have to pitch hit.

Bobby has gotten the idea. "We want you as the head of Client Relations for a few reasons. You have the ability to talk to anyone about anything. Ranger and Lester are too handsome and too smooth, which makes men feel competitive, like they need to prove something, and they make women horny. They expect Ranger or Lester to do more _personal_ body guarding services, if you get my drift."

Whoops, she doesn't look pleased by that admission, but hell, it's the truth.

"Yeah, it a hard life but someone's got to do it." Les says. Steph laughs and the tension in the moment is broken. "But you know Ranger. He can heat 'em up and scare the shit out of 'em at the same time. All except Brenda, for some strange reason. And I hate when women get handsy with me, unless it's consensual, and I don't mix RangeMan business with pleasure. If they never had the expectation that **we** were going to be guarding them, life would be wonderful."

"When people see me, a 6 ft. brother with braids, or Tank, a 6 ft. 6in brother who doesn't smile, they get nervous. Women clutch their purses. Men look for the exit. Even potential clients aren't sure if we're going to protect them or rob them." Bobby says. "You they trust. You can put people at ease, get them to talk about things they don't want to discuss and charm them. You gotta remember Steph, RangeMan is minority-owned and it's filled with ex-military, ex-gang bangers and ex-felons. We're all intimidating as hell, which is another reason we love you.

You've always seen us as people, as men, not as scary thugs. We all trust each other and each man in the company knows that without RangeMan he might be living a very different life, but try telling that to a potential client. They know that our reputation says that we're the best but right now RangeMan Trenton has to repair its reputation and we're going to have to regain accounts we lost during the break-ins and rebuild a little. Having you in the front, in leadership, liaising with clients will ease that transition."

Steph raises her hand for a moment and we fall silent, waiting for the question. Lester moves to the kitchen and grabs water for us and another Coke for her. I'm rapidly approaching 36 hours without sleep and we need to get this wrapped up. Ella should arrive in 10 minutes.

Steph looks up and starts to speak but Lester cuts her off. "We don't need you to give us an answer right now, Beautiful. For the next week, you're on bed rest and that's what's important. So, take the next week and think about it. We don't want to take away your freedom and, at heart, you're like Ranger." Lester grins. "You're a hunter, an adrenaline junkie. You like the chase, following the lead, being nosy. You're a great investigator, putting together the clues and solving the puzzle. Why do you think Ranger still spends so much time in the field? He can't let it go either. That damn paperwork piles up and then we're all stuck trying to push paper for hours just so we can all stay in the field, so don't start thinking that this is an attempt to chain you to a desk. It's not. It's an offer to make you even better than you are now, to bring you on board, build you up, and really let you shine. And yeah, you aren't going to like part of it. It will mean range time and exercise and eating healthier but I'll make you a promise. Listening?"

"Yeah?" She's wary, waiting for the catch. So am I. Agreements are meant to be between me and her, not him.

"We will modify for you. We'll find ways to make the requirements work so that you aren't stuck doing shit you hate. Just as we all enjoy getting down into the gym and practicing, we'll find some way of making it fun for you. Agreed?" I can live with that, if he can find a wait to help her meet requirements without doing it the prescribed way. Flexibility. We all agreed last night….this morning, that with Steph we might have to be a little more flexible.

"I'll think on it." A wary smile from her but we're getting there and just in time. There's a knock at the door and Bobby opens it to find Ella standing there, suitcases in hand, ready to pack Steph up for the next 3 months.

"Hi Stephanie! I hear you're coming to live at Haywood."

"Yes, I've agreed to it, but how did you know?" She's looking at all of us suspiciously.

"Bobby called about an hour ago to come pack you up. He said you would be staying with us while you recovered." Thank you Ella, for not giving it away. "Is there anything in particular I need to get dear? I have your toiletries already stocked, so I just need to know what clothing and sundries you want to take."

I pick Bombshell up and carry her into her bedroom so she and Ella can pack in some privacy. Les and Bobby have already moved to the kitchen so I join them.

Bobby looks at Les. "You're a fucking genius. I didn't expect that to go as easily as it did. We accomplished everything on today's list and with minimal effort and fuss."

Les shrugs. "It's not over. The victory was too easy. I don't think Objective 1 was that hard anyway. The only hard part was going to be getting her to accept that she couldn't stay here. Once that was done, the real work began."

"Still, I could pound Morelli and her Mom for making her feel incompetent—"

"Don't. It would be unjustified." Bobby is shocked and so am I. Les looks at us and shrugs. "Delayed reaction. I'm where you guys were yesterday. Besides, instead of working with us to get better she continued to do things in the way most likely to get her killed. Ranger doesn't normally offer to help people, especially those who make it clear they don't want to be helped, and he was trying his best to serve as her mentor. What I don't understand is why she wouldn't accept his help." Les shakes his head. "And no matter how badly they went about showing it, what Mrs. Plum and Morelli both want is Steph's safety, same as us. Only they want her to quit and go work at the button factory and we want her to train and get better. Same goal, different methods. So keep that in mind tonight when you go to dinner at Chez Plum."

Fucker. I ought to make him go.


	3. Plum Dinner Fun

**A/N: And now for a comedic break! **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Plum Dinner Fun**

**Bobby's POV**

There are a lot of places in the world I would rather be right now than in the 'Burg for a Plum Family Dinner. Tajikistan is nice this time of year and I hear Belize….no, not Belize. Maybe Somalia. Yeah, the pirates aren't that bad. Unfortunately, since I am the authority on all things medical, I'm forced to endure a Plum family dinner with Bomber and Tank. I was doing so well. Four years of knowing Bomber and this is the first one I've been forced to attend. That's not to say I haven't heard about them. Oh god, have I heard about them, but this is the first time I'll experience it for myself.

We pull up at 5:50 and Steph looks out the door and whimpers. So far, everything is just as I've heard. Mrs. Plum and Mrs. Mazur are on the stoop looking at the SUV. Mrs. Plum looks as if she's swallowed a bag of lemons and Mrs. Mazur…yeah, I'm wearing a cup. Just gotta watch my six now. The curtains in the surrounding houses are all moving. Damn, nosy neighbors.

I climb out the SUV and grab the wine (always take a peace offering into a tense situation) while Tank carefully pulls Bomber out the SUV and settles her in his arms to carry her inside. Mrs. Plum looks fit to explode now but what the hell can we do? Bomber can't walk so if she expects her daughter at this fiasco, she'll have to be carried inside.

"Mom, I hope you don't mind if Tank and Bobby join us."

Yeah, she minds. She minds a great deal, but she plasters on a sickly smile. "No of course not. Mr….Tank, if you don't mind bringing Stephanie inside and placing her in her usual chair. You and Mr….Bobby can sit on either side of her." She turns to me. "Thank you so much for the wine. It looks wonderful and it's nice to meet you outside a hospital." OK, she remembers me and she isn't being sarcastic or nasty….overtly nasty, anyway. "It'll be tight because your sister's here too but we'll manage."

Great. My first trip and I get the entire Plum circus. Tank is either crying or laughing right now, I can't tell. As my ass is pinched (shit, how did I get distracted and lose visual on the old lady that fast?), I realize that this is going to be one hell of an evening.

None of my military training has prepared me for what I encounter inside. Mr. Plum is seated in his recliner but the arrival of his youngest daughter propels him up to pat her on the shoulder. Apparently, this doubles as a hug in this family. He motions everyone up from the table and starts reaching underneath. One girl (is this one umm…Alice something?) whinnies and gallops out of the way (Gallops? Really? Galloping?) while another man passes a young child over to the other girl (Angie. That I remember) and tries to help Mr. Plum. He moves the chairs out of the way and reaches underneath the table. Ah, there's another leaf but ….Kloughn (ha, I got it) can't find the latch. I move to the opposite side of the table, find the latch easily and help Mr. Plum adjust the table to a 10-seater. Tank places Bomber at the end of the table closest to her father.

My ass is pinched again and my eye twitches. Mr. Plum notices and grimaces. "Can't help you there. Which one are you? I know you're the medical one."

"Bobby, sir. Pleasure to be here."

"Really? You enjoy being pinched? Where Ranger? He's the usual victim." Damn, I like Mr. Plum so far.

"On assignment."

"Boy either has a death wish or he's insane." He mutters.

Or he's trying to keep our company profitable because your daughter is a drain on the bottom line but he loves her. Nope, don't go there. Not tonight.

"Mr. Plum, we're going to need to make a change in the seating arrangements, if you don't mind." Tank says, just as Mrs. Plum comes out to overhear.

"Why? The seating arrangements are set so there's no arguing over who's supposed to sit where." Great, we've upset the uber-homemaker's happy routine, but the look her husband gives her could peel paint. I think we'll get our way but best to explain anyway.

"Understood Ma'am, but Steph's left leg is injured, so we would prefer to have her sit on the end of the table next to her father and I will sit across the table so she can balance her leg on my chair. We have to keep her leg immobilized in order to speed her recovery. Tank can sit next to her." I give her my most charming smile and hope the threat level decreases from DEFCON3 to DEFCON5.

Silence greets this explanation before Mrs. Plum returns to the kitchen. Mr. Plum looks over at us. "Do whatever you need to and don't explain. Everyone else will adjust." He smiles at me. "You've just put yourself in the seat next to either Kloughn or Edna for the next hour."

I'm sending Lester to Somalia.

At precisely 6, the entire family sits down. The table is covered with a damn fine spread. Roasted chickens, mashed potatoes and gravy, broccoli and cauliflower covered in cheese sauce, limp green beans (OK, that doesn't look so great….if this was the way Bomber was served vegetables as a child, I can see why she doesn't eat them now) and rolls. Everyone tucks in and the first 10 minutes of dinner are relatively silent. Except for the whinnying. That's going to drive me insane.

I haven't failed to notice that Mrs. Plum isn't really eating. She staring at Bomber and sipping her meal. OK, so the stories of her drinking are true. Kloughn has spilled gravy down his shirt. Please don't lean toward me. Mr. Plum hasn't looked up from his plate yet. Damn. Only military men eat like that. So far, Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Cal have not over exaggerated a Plum family dinner. And true to form, Bomber is eating but with absolutely no noise and no expressions of pleasure. It is literally the saddest thing I've ever seen. No one has said a word. It's almost as if we're all waiting for permission to speak and no one wants to be first.

Thank god children are innocent and oblivious.

"I got an A on my spelling test." The youngest one, Mary Alice (ha, got it) is the first to speak and the flood gates open. Kloughn starts talking about a new client he picked up (I guess attorney-client privilege means nothing to him) and Valerie discusses sales at Kohl's and Macy's with her mother (who isn't really responding. She's too busy staring daggers at Bomber, willing her to talk). Edna has apparently found a new man at the senior citizens home and is telling anyone willing to listen.

"I'm telling you, he's got all his original parts. Mildred Griffin said that he's just a playboy but that's because she wanted to get married to him. I'm not looking for a ring, just want a cutie pie to get laid." She grins and adjusts her dentures. I'm starting to understand Mr. Plum. I don't have to acknowledge anything if I continue to look at my plate. "He's not as muscley and tight as the two stud-muffins on the end there, but he's got a driver's license, a car, and he likes to dance. I shoulda brought him over tonight so you could meet him." God no. Please.

"Mr. Bobby?" Complete silence over the table. Mrs. Plum's first words are directed at me. Oh joy.

"Yes, Mrs. Plum?"

"Helen, please. I see you at the hospital enough that we should be on first name basis. Can you tell me exactly what the diagnosis is and what Stephanie's recovery will be?" Oh. Awkward.

"Mother, I'm sitting right here. You could have asked me." Steph is angry and indignant and I so don't want to be in the middle of this.

"Yes, I could have. I tried to. All yesterday. All of today. As a matter of fact, since the phones started ringing I've been trying to find out exactly what happened. From **YOU**. But **MY** daughter doesn't return phone calls, even though she has a cell phone and a home phone." Her voice is getting louder and louder and she's shouting by the end of the sentence.

"That's partially my fault, Mrs. Plum, er, Helen. I gave her something for the pain yesterday that pretty much knocked her out all night and I turned the ringers on her phones off to make sure she slept." Why on earth did I say that? Shit, now I'm in the line of fire. Stand strong, soldier. Mrs. Plum stares at me with hard, angry eyes and I realize that this woman isn't really angry at me. She's angry and upset because no one called her to say Steph was OK. Finally, she nods.

"OK, I can accept that, but I would prefer it never happens again. Even if she isn't transported to the hospital, if you give her something that's going to knock her out and she doesn't call us, please call her father and me. We worried. And you still haven't answered my question."

"Mother!"

"No, Stephanie! This young man has patched you up more times than any ER doctor. Are you going to tell me exactly what's wrong? Or are you going to lie to me or downplay it like you usually do?" Wow….Tank meets my eyes across the table and we realize that this is a new battle front. This isn't the usual "You need to marry Joe and have babies!" or "You need to quit your job!" or "The button factory is hiring!" that I've heard about. We have no precedent for this battle, so as with any new terrain, the plan is to proceed with caution, eyes open and covering our rear.

Steph, however, isn't military and doesn't know how to do that. She's fighting the usual battle. "I'm fine Mom. I just have to stay off my feet for a while and I'll be fine." Oh man Plum, you are going down. She just told you not to lie or downplay.

Before this turns into a screaming match between mother and daughter across the table, Mr. Plum looks up and says, "Don't insult us Stephanie. Tank carried you into the house. You're balancing your leg on Bobby's chair. Is your leg broken or just fractured?"

Steph is looking at her father, stunned. Actually, everyone at the table is. Wow, I guess the man does **not** speak at the dinner table and this is a momentous occasion. Bomber looks over at me and, tears in her eyes, nods.

"Steph has a hairline fracture of the tibia, which is the bone that runs from her knee to her ankle." I'm looking directly at Mrs. Plum. "Recovery calls for 2 weeks total bed rest, which will begin tonight, and afterwards, 10 weeks of physical therapy. The stitches in her arm and head should come out in a week and everything else will heal on its own."

"How did you diagnose that?"

"We had a CT scan done at St. Francis after the accident. It was reviewed by an orthopedic surgeon."

"Gunshot wounds?" Damn! When did she get this thorough? Then again, as many times as Bomber's been through this, I guess these are the questions she just knows to ask now.

"Grazed twice. Both areas have been stitched. Everything else is what we call "road rash", or abrasions of the skin. Basically, we just keep that clean and let it heal naturally."

"Possibility that this could turn into a stalking situation?" Whoa….she's **really** gotten thorough.

"Unlikely, but we're on the lookout, as always."

"Thank you Bobby. I appreciate your candor and professionalism. Stephanie, I'll prepare the room upstairs for you. Frank, you'll need to move the TV into Steph's old room—"

"That's not necessary Mom! I'm going to stay at RangeMan during my recovery so Bobby can do daily checkups and monitor me. And I can work while on bed rest while there so I can still pay my bills."

"Hot Damn! My grandbaby's gonna be in the building with all the hot men with nice packages. You should pinch as many bottoms as you can. I've pinched Bobby's bottom. It's very nice." I feel my balls shrivel while Tank tries not to laugh. "If you sleep with him, let me know if black men's wangers are as big as they say. I wanna try one but I don't want to be disappointed."

My balls are now confused. They want to shrivel but there's cultural pride and heritage to be considered. Tank is clearly holding back laughter. Meanwhile both Mr. and Mrs. Plum are telling Edna to shut up because Steph's nieces are young and impressionable. I get the feeling these girls aren't fazed by much. Mary Alice is still trying to eat off her plate like a horse (I can't watch) while Angie is rolling her eyes and wiping the baby's mouth. Kloughn just dropped mashed potatoes in his lap while Valerie dabs at the gravy stain.

"Stephanie, I understand what you've said, but it's completely unacceptable and out of the question. It is improper of you to stay in a building full of men, none of whom you are married to or in any kind of relationship with. For Christ's sake, what will people say when they find out you're living there? If you were to get back with Joe, he could take care of you. No, out of the question. You'll come home. Susan Stano's daughter stays home with her mother when she's sick. Mary Jo Graziano's daughter insisted on moving home when she sprained her ankle. You'll come home too. It's appropriate and correct."

I'm amazed by Mrs. Plum's entire statement. Apparently, she is aware that Bomber and Morelli have broken up (glad to see intel was correct there. That will make the rest of Lester's plan run smoother) but she hasn't given up on getting them together again. Even more amazing is what she didn't say, or at least didn't offer. She did not offer to come take care of her daughter or try to convince her to stay in her own apartment where she could take care of her. Wow…On one hand I'm glad because there's no way she's getting above the first floor of RangeMan. On the other, nice to see that she isn't willing to make the effort to leave her home to care for her daughter. If my mom lived locally and heard I was injured, I wouldn't be able to pry her away until I was running sprints again, regardless of where she or I had to stay. For Bomber's mom, the only option she will consider is that she comes home, like every other lemming in the neighborhood.

"Staying here isn't going to work, Mom. Dad and Grandma already get into enough fights over the bathroom. And the internet is dialup and I need a DSL connection, at least, to do RangeMan work. I can stay in an apartment at RangeMan and the RangeMan housekeeper, Ella, has already agreed to help me. Actually, she volunteered and I've already moved my stuff there. Everything is situated for me to get the best care, so I'll be fine. Besides, I don't have a car anymore, so when it's time to go to doctor's appointments and physical therapy the guys will be able to take me in the SUV."

Mrs. Plum is clearly not happy about any of this and I can see her gearing up to make another stab at it when I notice Mr. Plum look up and shake his head once. Just once and Mrs. Plum exhales noisily and walks into the kitchen. She returns with a full glass and conversation around the table proceeds as normal, I guess. Who the hell could tell what is normal in this house?

6:45 and dessert is served. Dessert is pineapple upside down cake with fresh whipped cream. Bomber looks stunned when it's placed on the table and she's given a large piece and lots of cream. Her mother actually comes around the table to place it in front of her and says, quietly, "I want to hear from you once every day, Stephanie. No exceptions. I will expect you to call every day at 10AM or 2PM. If you don't call, your Grandmother and I will come to RangeMan to see you each day."

Oh, you are a wily one, Mrs. Plum. You have just **guaran-_fucking_-teed** that Bomber will call you **every** day. Hell, twice a day if it will keep Edna Mazur away from our building. Tank's face clearly says that Bomber will never miss that call.

"And I **never** want to be the last person to find out that you're injured, do you understand me? Your father and I worried and called everywhere. We even called RangeMan and they wouldn't give us any information about you." Mrs. Plum looks over at me and says, "When she is injured, I will expect to hear from **you**. Not Tank, not Ranger, not any of the others because I know that **you** will be the one with the medical information. You always are."

And with that, Mrs. Plum returns to her seat and drinks her dessert.

* * *

**SPOV**

It was the sanest dinner I've attended in a while. Aside from the threat of a personal visit from Mom and Grandma, I'm surprised it was so low-key. Of course, Bobby is in the backseat looking a little stunned. I keep forgetting that this was his first trip.

"You OK, Bobby?"

"Yeah." No. Clearly not.

At the end of dinner, while Valerie was trying to get her group out of the door, I tried to explain to Mom that normally Ranger or Tank will be the persons that my medical information would be released to but she wouldn't hear it.

_"It doesn't matter, Stephanie. Every time you're at the hospital or the ambulance is called, it's always Mr. Bobby who ends up talking to the doctors and nurses and explaining things to Ranger and Mr. Tank….Is his name really Tank? I mean, his legal name?"_

_"No, his legal name is different but he goes by Tank Mom. Just Tank. And Bobby is short for Robert but he goes by Bobby."_

_"Humph. Bobby is understandable, but Tank? Tank is a description not a name…oh. Anyway, Bobby seems to be the person Ranger and Tank look to for medical advice so he is the person I expect to hear from. I want to know that if something happens I'm talking to someone who understands everything going on. Is he a doctor? Or a nurse? Does he have any medical credentials?"_

_Good question. "I know in military circles he's a medic, but I don't know how that translates to civilian."_

_"Well, he understands what they're talking about so that's all I need to know. You make sure that he understands that he can and should call us if you can't. Just to let us know you're safe and alive. That's all your father and I need to know until you can call us yourself."_

I was also pretty shocked she was civil to them during dinner. I'm not quite sure what brought that on, but for once I didn't feel as if she was thinking "Thugs! Hooligans! Murderers! Thieves!" the entire dinner.

Mom pressed a huge bag of leftovers into Bobby's hands on the way out the door, including an entire pineapple upside down cake. To serve me cake during dinner is to say "I love you." To send me home with an extra? I'm not even sure what that is. I really love you? I was worried? This was stress baking? I don't know how to quantify it.

Half the neighborhood turned out to watch Tank carry me to the SUV. I'm not sure why this is considered so newsworthy, but there you are. That's the 'Burg for you.

The ride back to Haywood is quiet. Tank is in his zone and Bobby is completely out of his. It occurs to me that both of them look completely exhausted.

"When was the last time either of you got any real sleep?"

No one answers at first then Tank says, "42 hours ago." Holy Shit!

"Yeah," Bobby says. "I think we're all hitting sheets when we get back."

No kidding.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah Steph?"

"How many times did she get you?"

"Let's not discuss it." I look at Tank. His mouth is twitching.

"What should I tell her about your wanger?"

Tank starts laughing, a huge booming sound that actually scares me at first. I can't remember the last time I've heard Tank laugh like that. I twist around in the seat to look at Bobby. His face is screwed up and his eyes are closed. He has a hand over his crotch. "Don't go there Bomber. I'm feeling a little fragile right now. I was warned about your Granny but I was not given the full extent of the situation. Was that a normal dinner at your folks or was everything off because they were worried about you?"

Poor Bobby. I almost hate to answer him but I don't have to. "Actually, Brown, that was pretty subdued."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nah man. I mean, Mr. Plum spoke, which was a fucking miracle, but otherwise, it was definitely subdued. The baby didn't scream her head off, Kloughn only dropped half his meal into his lap and violated his professional ethics twice, Edna didn't have any funeral home viewings to regale us with and Mrs. Plum, sorry, your new friend Helen, only drank 4 glasses of whisky. Morelli was only mentioned once. All in all, calm night."

Yes. Calm night indeed.

* * *

My return to the 7th floor is met by Ella, who quickly helps me strip down and take a shower. I'm still a little uncomfortable, but not as bad as when I first got here hours ago.

_"Stephanie? I think we should talk about what you need and want for the next few weeks." What can I say to Ella? She's already put away my clothing, fed Rex, and helped me hobble to and from the toilet. I'm exhausted watching her._

_"Umm…Ok Ella. Where do we start?"_

_"Well, Bobby tells me that you are on total bed rest for the next two weeks and I want to help make that as comfortable as possible for you. I asked Luis to get a non-slip bath mat for the shower to ensure you don't fall and he will install some shower grips on the walls, just to help you with your balance. Now, as far as personal grooming goes, I know that you are a modest young lady, but you are a modest young lady with a broken leg. So you need to let me know what is uncomfortable for you. I don't mind helping you get dressed and undressed and into the shower or bath. I would prefer that you allow me to help you rather than trying to do it all yourself and ending up hurt. Comprende?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Now, is there anything about your normal routine or day I need to know about? I want to be able to ensure I'm here when you need me and out of your hair when you need privacy."_

_This is what I love about Ella. She's ready to see to my needs without smothering me. I never would have gotten this kind of consideration at Mom's. "Well, the biggest thing I know I'm going to need help with is first thing in the morning. The moment I wake up, I gotta go. Right then. I usually make a dash from my bed to the bathroom, but I know I'll need help then."_

_"OK dear. What time do you normally wake up?"_

_"Usually between 8:30 and 9:30."_

_Ella beams. Oh good, I hoped it wouldn't be inconvenient. "Excellent! I'm usually watching the telenovelas at that point while I iron or prep lunch, so I'll iron up here. Just call my name when you wake up."_

_"No problem. What's a telenovela? Is that a soap opera?"_

_"Yes!" Ella grins. "Amor Real, Rubí, Sortilegio, they are all wonderful. My guilty pleasure." Ella looks thrilled to have time to watch them, so I have no problems sleeping in. In fact, I think it's my duty to make this as easy as possible for Ella. "Now, what's the plan for the evening?"_

_"Well, we have to leave for dinner at my mothers, so I need to be ready by 5:30."_

_"OK, well it is 2 right now and since you don't know how long it will take for you to get ready with that leg, what say you take a nap and I'll wake you at 4:30 so you can start getting ready? Do you need any pain pills right now?" I nod and Ella returns with half of one of the long white pills and a bottle of water. If this is an indication of how Ella's going to be for the next 10 weeks, I may never move out. She anticipates everything. Then again, this is Ranger's apartment, in Ranger's building and she's Ranger's housekeeper. Don't get too attached, Plum. Ella helps me get situated in the bed and it's lights out for me._

_Sure enough at 4:30, I'm awake. Ella has clearly been shopping. There are maxi dresses and sweats to accommodate my cast but altered for my waist and hips on the end of the bed. Ella bustles into the room with a basket filled with my normal cosmetics and more pairs of pants. Nice dress slacks, loose linen pants, even a few pairs of jeans. How in the hell does she do it? I decide not to ask._

_She helps me into the bathroom and holds me steady as I slip out of my clothes. I'm beet-red with embarrassment at taking off my underwear but Ella is matter of fact about it. The waterproof cover is smoothed over my cast and into the shower I go. There's no comparison between my shower and Ranger's. Everything Ranger is better. There's a knock on the bathroom door. "Stephanie dear, don't panic but it's 5 o'clock."_

_Perfect timing. I shut the water off and as I open the door, Ella is there is a terry cloth wrap. She carefully guides me out of the shower and over to the sink to brush my teeth and subdue my hair. She returns to help me into the bedroom, removes the waterproof cover, and leaves so I can dress in privacy. By the time the guys come to get me at 5:25, I'm sitting on the couch with my leg propped up praying to god that this will be a quiet evening with just my parents and Grandma._

Clearly, I need to go to Mass again. That prayer wasn't answered, not even close.


	4. I Smell Change in the Air

**Chapter 4: I smell change in the air**

**Ram's POV**

I've been at RangeMan Trenton for 2.5 years and I can honestly say that the core team doesn't usually pull surprises on the rest of us unless Bombshell is involved. So to get a call at 0115 to report to Tank's apartment had me assuming Bombshell was in trouble. I was there in 15 minutes with full gear and my sniper rifle. You never know. On the way up the stairs I see Hal and Manny double timing it, armed to the teeth, so I assume they're in on it. No one says a word as we walk through Tank's door.

"Sir?"

"Stand down. Take a seat. Drink?" WTH? Is this a social call? Water is passed around and we sit. Bobby and Lester are examining a piece of paper and haven't looked up yet.

"Ram, Hal, Manny, for the next 72 hours I need the three of you to run the Trenton Office. All assignments, scheduling, and appointments are your responsibility. Assignment could run longer as needed. Can you handle the assignment?"

"Sir, yes Sir," Hal replies, "but is there a problem with Bombshell?"

"No problem, but we're going to modify routine in the office over the next two weeks. Questions?"

"Bombshell orders?"

"In progress. We intend to relocate her here for mandatory bed rest on 7. Ella will have point. Run all requests for visual through her. Bomber will have a laptop and cell phone and can run searches from her bed," Bobby says. Mandatory bed rest?

"Ranger?"

"I'll handle," Tank says.

"Client facings?" Manny asks.

"Three for security, one for personal services. You'll be with me on all those," Lester replies. "We need to beat the bushes too. There are two takedowns scheduled. One required a distraction, but Beautiful's out of commission for 12 weeks, so adjust accordingly." Aw, that sucks. Gotta review intel.

Hal. "Internals?"

"One XO meeting I will handle. Internal status meetings are yours to decide, company status and strategy meeting also. I want a detailed report EOD. Get a schedule amongst yourselves, one XO, one liaison, one strategy, and update the internal site so the other offices know who's lead," Tank says. "Take Conference 2 as a joint office for the next few days."

"Morelli? Current intel says off."

"Assumed true. Standard orders apply. You'll take over at 0900, so get some sleep."

With that, I've run out of questions. I've been called on to run the office for limited durations before so I know the setup and procedure. We leave and walk to Conference 2. This is Hal's first time doing this so Manny and I get him up to date quickly on setup. We decide to allow Hal to take point as XO, mostly because it keeps him running things internally since he has the least experience with the other offices and clients and because he has the greatest attention to detail. Manny takes strategy and I take liaison and update the internal company site with our positions and schedule. We also remind Hal to bring 3 changes of clothes and 2 suits to the office and allow Ella to press his suits.

The first external liaison call takes place at 0600. It's a pulse check that happens every three hours during the day and lasts 5 minutes normally. I call in from home and everything is normal. I'm on edge. Normally we would have some idea of the threat or problem. Core gave us nothing.

I'm on 5 in Conference 2 by 0730. I'm hoping for additional information but Lester has that look that says his blade hand feels slippery. I look for Manny and find him in his cubicle with Hal.

"Anything?"

"Not a word."

Day 1 speeds by. The email from Tank detailing the assignment (short on detail) goes out at 0800, so I get numerous Nosy Nellies stopping by C2 for intel. I got nothing so I give nothing. The external XO pulse check at 0830 is attended by Tank, who informs each XO that we will be running Trenton for the next 72 hours and the assignment might be extended. Each XO promises us all assistance if and when needed. Afterwards, Mark from Boston and Javier in NYC call to reiterate that, as they're the closest, not to hesitate regardless of request or question, especially to Hal, who is taking over as XO. I advise Hal to ask me first, as Javier and Mark are nosy bastards and anything said to them will be over RangeMan before he hangs up the phone.

The rest of the day I'm swamped with work. I get the schedule updated and posted, which has to be the most hated job in RangeMan management. Nobody ever likes their shift and I receive no less than 4 emails requesting shift changes. I send them all the finger. Bombshell is brought in around 1330 and set up on 7. We're reminded to call Ella before calling her directly. The remaining pulse checks are normal but everyone wants to know what's going on at RM Trenton. I mentally send them all the finger.

At 1930 Bobby walks into C2 with Hal and Manny and shuts the door. "Things may get…weird over the next few days but there is one thing you **absolutely must** accomplish." We hold our breath and wait. "Bomber **must** call her mother **at least** once a day, 10AM or 2PM. Once the call is complete, she will send an email to core and to you. Failure will see Mrs. Plum and Mrs. Mazur here in person." OH HOLY HELL! "Failure to comply will see **you** on the mats with Tank at 0500 and Lester at 1700. Understood?"

"**Sir Yes Sir!**" We will make absolutely certain Bombshell calls her mother. I can handle anything except Granny Mazur's bony fingers.

Day 2 is mostly a repeat of Day 1. Manny has his suit on and looks every inch of a former feeb. I tell him and receive the finger for my troubles. I'm reviewing the intel for the distraction jobs in C2 when Hal walks in around 1030. Poor guy looks beat already.

"I've got 6 requests for change of schedule and Mark from Boston keeps calling wanting to know what's going on here. What the heck **is** going on, Ram? I feel like I'm out the loop."

"They're testing you. I've denied 4 requests, so hand those over. The other offices are going to call all day. Not only are they nosy but they know as much as we do and it's probably driving 'em bonkers. Ignore."

"Fine." Hal is silent for a moment then says, "Can we cut feed in here?"

"Yeah." Quick key press and we're all alone.

"Look, I appreciate you and Manny making me XO, but I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I need help here." It's testament to how frustrated Hal is that he actually cursed. Hal knows curse words? Wow…

"Alright, grab a sheet, take notes. Here goes. Your job as XO is to ensure all accounts are running normally, apprehensions are scheduled, client meetings are not overbooked and customers are happy. Manny and I made you XO because of your attention to detail, so while Manny is out there with Lester, shaking the bushes for business and shoring up our clients satisfaction ratings, you and I get the grunt work. So, who's running point in the monitoring station? Don't know? Check the schedule, then schedule a pulse check with that person every three hours. They should be calling you anyway."

"OK, that's Junior. He's been calling."

"Good. Now, I'm reviewing intel for the apprehensions we currently have, but you want to call Vinnie, John, and Douglas and give them an ETA for your arrival in their offices if they have files for you. Then grid the jobs out, matching the schedule I've created with the information in the file so we have coverage. Manny's job is to determine the best take-down procedures. Check with Ella to see if Bombshell is up to running searches. If so, send the info up. We've got the best at our disposal so let's use her. Contact Rodriguez to see if he has anything to add. Review his intel and pass any possible new client work to Manny. At 1300, you, me and Manny need to meet for about 90 minutes. We'll review the grid, whatever you've got at that point so don't stress it, and Manny will add the information he picked up during the day. With me?"

Hal looks dazed and I can't say I blame him. I never realized exactly how much the core team did during the day until the first time I had to run point. I've never given them shit since. "1600 is staff meeting. You take point there and you're basically looking for everyone to update status. When it goes well, we're in and out in 30 minutes."

"Got it." I see Hal making the connections in all the crap that's been flung at him in the past 24. He stands to leave and I can't resist messing with him.

"Hal?"

"Yeah?"

"Once you feel you've got that down, I'll give you the rest of the XOs job." I smile as Hal goes even paler. I wish I was just messing with him, but I'm not. I've given him about 75% of the XOs job. The other 25% I'll handle until he has that under his belt. He walks out, a bit unsteady.

"Welcome to the big leagues, Hal."

* * *

**Hal's POV**

_Welcome to the big leagues_? Is Ram kidding? I look down at my notes, still feeling a little overwhelmed and decide to start with the easiest thing first. Bombshell. We didn't get a 10AM email.

"Hello Ella?"

"Hello, Hal dear! I understand you're the XO for the week. Any orders for me?" she replies.

_Orders for Ella? _I never want Tank's job. "Just for clarification, what kind of orders do you normally receive, Ella?"

"Oh, it depends on the situation. I send a weekly status report with the current household information, like food levels and building maintenance information. I coordinate with Bobby on food modification plans if any RangeMan is sick or needs a specialized diet. With Tank and Ranger I usually update them if I need time to get carpets cleaned or filters changed, that sort of household info. Special orders would include a different lunch for a special occasion, specialized ordering you need for shirts, gun holsters, pants, boots, that sort of thing, any changes to décor or setup you want me to make, etc. Basically, if you need to make a change in the household or building or you need something for the men, you call me."

Wow, I never realized that Ella was the person who ordered gun holsters…I just thought they were there although that explains why mine fits perfectly and I can't buy one commercially. She has everyone's measurements on file.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I have nothing to request from you at this time, but I do need to know if Bombshell called her mother this morning. Is she awake?"

"Yes, she's awake. I know she spoke to her grandmother around 10AM, but I don't know if she actually spoke to her mother. Let me go get her." Hmm…Bobby's orders were to ensure Bombshell spoke to her mother. That's clear and explicit, so I'm going to go with that.

"Hey Hal! Please come rescue me!" Down Boy! You know she doesn't mean it like that.

"Hey Bombshell! How do you feel?"

"I'm ok but I'm bored out my skull."

"Well, I'd love to rescue you, but we were told you were on total bed rest. How do you feel? Need something to do?"

"Hal, I'm so bored even searches sound good right now. As far as pain, I'm fine. Ella's taking great care of me."

"Glad to hear it. By the way, did you call your mother this morning?"

I can hear quiet laughter. "Yes, I spoke to my mother and my grandmother this morning. You can tell everyone they can breathe easy for the next 24 hours."

My butt muscles unclench. Thank you, Lord. "You didn't send an email."

"I don't have a laptop." Oh duh.

"I'll get one up to you ASAP. I've got to make a stop at the Bond's Office soon. Any message you want me to take?" Please say no, please say no.

"Nope. I'm good. Tell Lula and Connie I'll call them."

I hang up, call Hector and ask him to deliver a laptop and cell phone to Steph ASAP. I then email core team, Ram, and Manny and advise that the 10AM phone call was made and confirmation will come once Steph is logged onto her laptop. I receive 5 grateful replies in 45 seconds. I walk back to the bridge and sit. I have 2 hours until I have to meet with Ram and Manny and about an hour before all the pulse checks start, so I review the info Ram gave me and get started with the grid.

By noon, I'm in a zone. I took all the disparate information that's flung all over the place and created a bunch of stacking calendars. One calendar has vacation and sick requests, another apprehensions and takedowns, so forth and so on. Once I've got that complete, I start scheduling in the coverage. I mean, Microsoft Outlook has all this information anyway, so why not just combine it? Plus, instead of having to post a schedule, I can simply update the calendar. Requests for modifications can come directly from the men and I only have to press one button to approve it. It eliminates a lot of work.

I finish the pulse checks then grab some lunch from the break room at 1230. By 1300 I'm just starting to schedule the men on the calendar when core team arrives. Each of them stops and gapes at the projection. I'm proud of it, although it is as multicolored as Joseph's dream coat.

"What the fuck am I looking at?" Tank asks. Ok….maybe I'm not so proud of it. Maybe I wish I hadn't done it.

"Sir, this is the grid of the current status of RangeMan Trenton, sir!"

Bobby and Lester look amused. "Stand down, Hal. This looks…" Tank still looks a little confused.

"It looks fucking brilliant, that's what it looks like." Lester says, grinning. "Explain it, Hal."

I uncheck all the calendars for staff and start explaining, calendar by calendar. As we get to the appropriate calendar, more information is added or expanded upon until we are through the existing calendars.

"Hal, that was brilliant. Don't know why we never thought of it. Makes it so much easier to actually see what the hell is going on. You need to add some calendars, though, and share them out with the people in charge of that division." Bobby states.

The core team meeting lasts 2 hours but we're productive. I've received go ahead to implement this as an ongoing tool at RangeMan Trenton. I've also been advised to write it up and prepare to send it to each RangeMan office for implementation in one month, depending on how it fares here. And I need to standardize the color schemes.

Now that I can actually see what is going on internally, I notice that there are gaps and over-scheduling in the staff. I take the requests for schedule modifications and determine that we can accommodate all of them. I run it by Ram first, who nods, then send out the approvals to each person.

At 1630, I'm shocked to see an email come from the Core team advising that Core 2 at RM Trenton will remain assigned for the next week. Two minutes later Manny and Ram walk into C2 and shut the door.

"OK, now we need to know what the hell is going on. This never happens unless we are in lockdown mode or Wifey's in trouble. Does anyone have any idea what is going on?" Manny asks.

"Nope, not a single clue. Bombshell's been upstairs all day, all the client accounts look good, I don't have anything to set this off." Ram replies.

"Well, something is going on. Unfortunately, Core isn't sharing and we have our orders, so until they decide to tell us, we just continue on."

Manny looks at us then asks a question I'd never thought of. "Do you think that we're auditioning for new jobs?" The idea is so extreme, so ludicrous that Ram and I laugh immediately, but Manny doesn't. "Well, you have a better idea? What could be going on that they elevate the three of us to be a Core 2? No other office has Core 2. B-Team, yes, Core 2, no. And usually when something big is going on, like all of Core off on assignment, they bring in staff from other offices to cover. So, if we aren't auditioning for new jobs, what else could be going on?"

"I don't know," Ram says, "but I do know that I'm going to spend the rest of the night checking and rechecking all the intel we have to make sure we haven't overlooked something. If I can't make any connections, then we'll talk about it in the morning."

I sit back down and take a look at the calendars I have going. I notice that in the past 30 minutes, all assignments for Bobby, Tank, and Lester have disappeared from their calendars and been reassigned to…Core Team 2. Well, everything except financial meetings. Then I notice that the ability to view their calendars has been changed to free/busy.

Something big is going on. I don't know what it is, I don't know when it's going down, but I'm going to keep my head down and run this place like Tank would.

* * *

**Manny's POV**

I spent 10 years in the Bureau, from the time I graduated college to the day I couldn't take the bullshit any longer and I developed really good instincts. Every single instinct I had was screaming that something big was going on at the highest levels and I needed to look sharp and pay attention. Ram and Hal, being former military, are accustomed to taking orders and forcing themselves not to question things but the entire point of the FBI is to stick our noses into every nook and cranny. It's the reason I'm head of Apprehensions at RangeMan Trenton; I can never let go.

Right now, all intel says that Wifey is not in any trouble but I'll double check the Bomber file later today. Lester handed off her open FTA files this morning, including Mr. Thomas Mann, the asshole whose actions currently have Wifey sidelined on 7. He'll be my first apprehension this week. I stop into the offices and grab Binkie, Zip, & Zero. Hector walks by and I include him in the discussion. He's not Apprehensions (we like to bring 'em in alive whenever possible) but if someone messes with Wifey and Hector isn't informed, life can get difficult.

"Thomas Mann, assault and arson, $45,000." I catch each man's eye. "Guilty of shooting twice at Wifey, destroying her car, and causing bodily injury." Nothing more needs to be said. I leave the files. I hear Zip translate for Hector.

Four hours later I receive confirmation that Thomas Mann is a resident of Clinton Avenue. Seems he had a broken arm, lots of road rash, and a concussion when he got there. Oh well. Things just seem to happen. The cops didn't seem too concerned about it. I refuse to be overly concerned about it.

I spent yesterday and today with Lester doing client calls. The core team had been going around to each RangeMan Trenton client to assure them we were operating at capacity, the burglary spree they heard about was not an inside job, yada yada. Lester and I had the big money makers, who were pissed to discover that their meeting with the infamous Carlos Mañoso was instead attended by Lester Santos and Manuel Sanchez. Five minutes in, I could see why this humongous fucking headache fell to Lester; the man could charm your Abuela out her panties **with** your Abuelo's approval. Calls I assumed would take at least an hour Lester had complete in 20-25 minutes. He introduced me each time, making sure to slip the fact that I'm a former feeb into the conversation with each client. I felt slightly pimped and told him so after the 4th client call. He laughed.

"Welcome to client calls, Manny. When Ranger first started taking me along, he slipped my special forces background into each conversation and I blew up at him too, but the point is to make sure that each client, especially at this level, knows that we don't have just _**anyone**_ reviewing their accounts. You're a former feeb **and** the head of Apprehensions at RangeMan Trenton. That makes them feel that if some shit happens, you'll be the one holding their hand and calling the orders, even if it isn't true."

"True." I sat back in my seat and thought. Then I asked the question I've been _dying_ to ask since I joined 3 years ago. "Les, why don't we have a true, dedicated sales team? I mean, aside from Ranger we don't really have anyone dedicated to coordinating client requests and new client development?"

Lester frowned and looked at me. I got the feeling he was trying to determine if I should be told something that I probably really wanted to hear. Finally, he nodded and said, "We never had the following conversation. If I ever hear a word about this, I'll drop you in a 'Stan naked with a knife. _Comprende?_" I nodded and he entered a code in the dash to disable vehicle audio monitoring, then called it into 5. "Bobby, Tank, and I have plans for the company that we are implementing while Ranger's gone. They aren't plans that he isn't aware of, but they've been longed delayed. One of those plans is for a Director of Sales & Client Relations and Head of Bonds Enforcement. Three guesses on who those positions will belong to."

Ha! I knew something was up. I might not have spidey-sense but I'm not feeble. Wait, Head of Bonds Enforcement? Would that overlap with my job? WTF?!

"We aren't sure yet if the two positions are going to be too much for one person to handle but we'll see. At the moment, we are running some models with the RangeMan Trenton office, which is why we are stepping back and allowing others to do most of our duties. The longer this goes on the clearer it will be to you what we are up to."

"Are we being auditioned for new jobs?" I won't get a straight answer on this. I just want him to know that I've realized this is a possibility.

"Does it matter? We need you to do the jobs you are assigned. Can you do that?" Fuck. That was a hard-nosed answer.

"Yes, sir." Les is younger than I am but there's no question he's the boss. I almost want to salute.

"Good." We stop back at Haywood for lunch, which gives me time to review my office's current status. I notice that 3 timesheets aren't in, so I send out nasty-grams to the offenders. All status reports are in so we're good there. A quick walk-through of the area reveals everything is hopping. We have 14 apprehensions currently scheduled with due dates ranging from tomorrow to three weeks from now. Over $1 million dollars in work. Excellent. I return to my cubicle and pull my red folder of big ideas, the folder I've kept since I started, with items I'd like to implement at RangeMan Trenton if I were ever in leadership. This is the closest I may ever get and given the response to Hal's brilliant calendar project yesterday, I decide to start with the idea with the biggest bang and see if I can push it forward. If I'm auditioning for a job then I'm determined to keep it, I think.

We currently have 40 men employed full-time at RangeMan Trenton, not counting the Core Team, Bomber, Ella and Luis. Add in the contract workers and we're up to 70. Time sheets, status reports, all the paperwork that makes us tick, is kept on big servers running out of Atlanta. All of our information is essentially in a digital filing cabinet with no real structure, no ability to report, and bare minimum differentiation to keep the other offices from snooping. Drives me insane. The feds aren't much better about paperwork but we're a private company. We can afford to do better.

So, I've been playing with a trial version of SharePoint on my computer. The trial is about to run out, so I want to get this in front of the Core Team ASAP. I ask Hector to attend the Core Team meeting today so he can explain the technical requirements of SharePoint. If I sell this idea, I'll be happy regardless of whether or not I get a promotion. I call Hal to my cubicle and spend 15 minutes showing him what I've had setup for months. Turns out, Hal has heard of SharePoint and seen a little bit of it and likes what he sees of my virtual site. I call Hector into the cubicle to see if we can integrate the Outlook server into the SharePoint site so the Core Team can see how it would all operate. Hector gets excited by the idea, calls the guys in Atlanta and says it'll be ready before the 1300 status meeting, which is in 45 minutes. He'll have it setup and ready to demo.

Hal also brought all the files from the 3 Bonds offices we work with, so I start reviewing the files to get a general idea of what kind of skips we're looking at. Why anyone allows accused murderers and rapists walk free on bond is beyond me but hey, the money is great. We also have some private investigation files, a new service we just started offering a few months ago, so I need to review and farm those out.

The 1300 Core Team meeting (I still can't believe I'm any part of a 'Core team') starts and, just like yesterday, I have the SharePoint site up on the screen for review. Because Hector is here, today's meeting is run entirely in Spanish.

"_Estoy empezando a tener la sensación de que cada vez que camino por aquí voy a ser asaltado por una idea nueva maldito..._ " (I'm starting to get the feeling that every time I walk in here I'm going to be assaulted by some new damn idea…) OK, Tank is a fucking Luddite, so I'll ignore him. I need Lester to be excited by this and, true to form, I see his mind already making the connections.

"_¿Por favor, dime que me va a gustar esto tanto como me gusta lo calendario_?" (Please tell me I'm going to like this as much as I like the calendar thing?) Lester grins. Sold! Hal blushes and Ram looks pensive.

"_Espero que sí_ (I hope so)."

Again, today's status meeting runs over, this time 2.5 hours, but Lester, Tank and Bobby click on damn near every link in my virtual RangeMan world. I don't have any confidential information anywhere, so it's safe for them to play. When they discovered we could also run the RangeMan website from this, let the new client inquiries feed right into the database and workflow it out to everyone who needed to know, I had it sold. Then I dropped the bomb on how much it would cost.

"_¿Se puede hacer de toda la empresa?_ " (Can it be done for the entire company?) Tank asked.

"Sí, y es escalable. No tenemos que hacer todo lo que ves todo de una vez con el fin de poner en marcha. Podemos traer piezas poco a poco ". (_Yes and it's scalable. We don't have to do everything you see all at once in order to get it up and running. We can bring pieces up bit by bit_.) Hector said. Hector was ready to move on this 4 months ago, so he pulls out server and build estimates. Damn. Wish he told me he already had it but it's great that he did.

I see Tank is having a small aneurysm over the cost and I'm concerned that it might not fly. Then he says something I never expected but really should have. He turns to Lester and Bobby and says, "Let's run this by Little Girl. If she's good, then I'll sign off. We'll fund it from the Enterprise account." I should have expected that. Wifey is the person Ranger trusts most. If she is OK with it, if it has her approval, then whenever he returns he'll be OK with it because he knows that if she actually makes a decision that would affect his company it would only be because she thought it was right.

If this were an interview for my current position, I think I've just passed with flying colors.


	5. Trips to Denial

**A/N: Ella****'****s meal is based on one I was served. I had Steph****'****s reaction. ****Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Trips into Denial**

**SPOV**

Six days on the 7th floor and I'm ready to scream! The first day wasn't so bad because I spent it asleep. Those pills of Bobby's are wonderful but I told Ella not to give them to me after day 2. They're way too powerful. Anything in pill form that can put you out for 8 hours should only be taken at night.

Bobby brought up a milder pain reliever the next day which he promised would dull the pain and leave me awake. He reminded me to stay off my feet and allow Ella to help me, which wasn't a problem because Ella has been great. We've talked about her life and all the things she did before she joined RangeMan. Turns out that Louis is a distant cousin of Ranger's and when Louis was hurt in a workplace accident right after Ranger started RangeMan Trenton, he brought Ella and Louis down here, both to help with Louis's rehab and so Ella, who was facing "empty nest syndrome", had something to do. Since Ella is a registered dietician she is primarily in charge of meals but she enjoyed the work of housekeeping and was determined to care for all her "boys."

"Oh Stephanie," she laughed, "You should have seen Carlos's face the first time he found me down on 4 changing sheets. He was fit to be tied!"

"Why?"

"Well, not only did he not want the men to get accustomed to the idea that they had a maid, but he was uncomfortable with the idea of his 'Tía' serving in a menial role. He read me the riot act on 6 later but he came back a week later and apologized."

"What! Ranger apologized? Why?" I simply couldn't imagine it.

"Well, not only were the men appreciative of my gestures, they were not taking them for granted. When I did grocery runs, they did and still do accompany me and help me get all the bags upstairs. If I'm headed to Sam's or Costco at least 2 of the men always volunteer to go with me and I'm not allowed to carry anything except my purse. They helped stock shelves, chop veggies, anything I needed. And a few of the new hires told him that it was the first time in a very long time that they had any kind of mother figure looking out for them and it was a nice perk of working at RangeMan that they never expected." She laughed harder. "After that, he hired a housekeeper and maintenance man for every RangeMan location. He says that after he did productivity went up 26%, fitness levels held steady and employee satisfaction was up 82%."

"Well, I know that when I'm here the best part of being here is eating whatever you cook. Ranger has bribed me in the past with your meals."

"Oh _cariño_, that is the best thing you could tell me! I tell you, it's a pleasure to cook for you. I sometimes get tired of cooking low-fat, low-sodium, low-calorie meals. It's fun to occasionally break loose and make a meal with some gravy!"

Ella filled me in on what's been going on downstairs too. I knew there was something bigger than the smoke Lester and Tank were blowing. Apparently Hal, Ram, and Manny have been running the office and doing an outstanding job at it. Ella showed me the calendar that Hal set up and I had to admit it really was amazing. I also had a calendar, or at least an Outlook account and once we set it up, we realized I had a master account and could see everything. For the first time, I could see all of the activity at RangeMan, the takedowns scheduled, the "redecorating jobs" lined up, the company meetings and schedules. I set that aside as something to think about later. The heads of each office have been calling Hal and Ram to find out what's going on up here, since Bobby, Tank, and Lester have stepped back from everything except financial meetings. Apparently, on day 4, they asked if it was possible that **I** might have information on what was going on, to which Ram had replied that I was recuperating from an injury and was incommunicado. I was amused that Ram decided that I was incommunicado but evidently everyone was told that all communication with me, outside the core team, had to go through Ella to ensure I stayed in bed and still. I was ready to go downstairs and rip into someone until Ella reminded me that the guys cared about my health and welfare and didn't want me overrun before I was well. I refuse to argue with Ella so that was the end of that.

Ella left, reminding me to call my mother at 10AM. Bobby and Tank took my mother's threat of an appearance seriously because if I don't call my mother by 11AM, then Ella makes sure to remind me at noon, when she brings my lunch, and 1:30 PM. Since I don't want to make Ella's life difficult, I've taken to calling my mother at 10AM and it hasn't been as bad as I thought. Apparently my trip to and from the house in Tank's arms has been the talk of the 'Burg.

"Your grandmother is telling everyone that you're living in the building with all the muscle men and you get to pinch bottoms every day and that they carry you around the building like an Egyptian queen because you broke your leg! I'm getting calls from everyone about what goes on in that building and it's driving me insane!" I can hear my mother banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. My eye is twitching. "Stephanie, please come home."

"Mom, it won't make a difference. Threaten her with a nursing home."

I hear a horrified gasp. "Stephanie! A nursing home is out of the question. No one puts their mother in a nursing home unless they want them to die!"

I can hear my father yell, "I've wanted her in a nursing home for years. You should consider it."

I love my mother, but these calls are not really about how I'm doing. They really exist to remind me of why I don't live in the 'Burg. I'm usually off in 15 minutes and I send the email to the guys shortly after.

I log back into my computer and start running searches. Manny and Rodriguez have had a field day sending me searches since they know I have nothing else to do. I currently have 9 sitting in my basket next to the bed. I started with 15, so clearing out 6 in 2 days has been pretty good progress and they've caught all 6 guys based on my info. I feel good knowing that I'm contributing to Ranger's bottom line.

* * *

I spent a lot of time looking at the calendar that first day. Actually seeing RangeMan's activity was a sobering experience. Before, when Ranger told me he bled money when I was in danger, I was hurt but I brushed it off. Now I'm looking at what Ranger has going on and seeing it in black and white was a pain so deep I fell into sobs, which exhausted me for the rest of the day. I've always been grateful, beyond grateful really, when Ranger showed up as my own personal Batman to save my life. I know he's a busy man but I just thought he was generically busy. This calendar is _crushingly_ busy and every time I'm in danger, he pulls every man off their assigned duties, calls in contract employees, and redirects all RangeMan activity toward saving my life. I've never wanted to really examine what that might cost beyond "expensive" but I get the idea that if he pulls all his men off their assignments for 1 day to search for me, it's costing him at least $50K-$75K. Not to mention what he actually loses in assignments and client calls. Multiple days multiple times a year…

I nearly hyperventilate at that thought.

Ella walks in when I am panicking and she calms me down and helps me breathe. I beg her not to mention this to Bobby, Lester, and Tank, which makes her laugh but she promises. I'm surprised I haven't seen them more, but she tells me that they are holed up in Tank's apartment and Lester's office and are incommunicado to anyone except Core 2 (Ram, Manny and Hal), me, and her. Core 2?

I don't want to talk to anyone but BLT didn't get the memo because they walk into the apartment at 6PM.

"Hey Beautiful! How are you feeling?"

"My leg itches, I'm ready to hurl myself out a window, and I'm hungry." I watch the three of them smile. I've had the same answer for the past 2 days.

"Sorry I can't do anything about your leg, but perhaps we can relieve the boredom and Ella's coming with food," Bobby says.

Yum….Ella food….

Laughter. Yeah, yeah you laugh all you want. Ella doesn't feed ME bark and twigs.

Ella appears with dinner, boneless beef tips, couscous, and steamed broccoli. She's been going back through her old recipe collections and allowing me to taste test the recipes she thinks she should keep. The winners have to be under 500 calories a serving and tasty in order to feed them to the men. My eyes tell me this is a winner. We all tuck in and the table is clear in no time. Dessert is a berry sorbet; this is also a winner.

When Ella comes to pick up the dishes we compliment the meal. She smiles.

"It was completely vegan."

You could have heard crickets chirp at that statement. Vegan?

"Yes, vegan. Not one drop of meat or an animal by-product. No eggs, no milk, nothing. So, how did it taste?"

Ella fed me bark and twigs. _**Ella** _fed me bark and twigs. And I liked it. It had **gravy**. I coulda licked the dessert bowl. I wanna cry.

Laughter. Ok, so I said it out loud. So sue me. I feel off. I've had nothing but vegetables tonight and I don't know how I feel about that. The guys compliment Ella on dinner. Honestly, if she hadn't said anything, we would not have known. It had gravy!

Stuffed and happy, Bobby carries me back to the couch and we get comfortable. Lester hooks my laptop up to the TV (wow, you can do that?) and they navigate to a website.

"Steph, we want your opinion on an idea. Manny suggested that we need to consolidate our files and information into one central site that is set up better than what we currently have. He's had this demo for a while and he set it up the way he wanted, just playing with it, and wanted us to take a look at it and see what we thought. We want you to eyeball it, play with it for a few days and tell us what you think."

"Wait, you guys own and run RangeMan, so why are you asking me what you should do?" I'm back to being suspicious and I feel a draft.

"True, but you're the closest we have to Ranger's opinion and instincts. We're thinking of taking this company wide if it pans out, so we really want you to dig in deep and really look for all the advantages and disadvantages of having something like this setup and implemented across the company."

"How much is it?"

Tank rubs his forehead. It must be expensive. "Little Girl, don't consider cost. The cost is variable depending on what we have set up and we can afford all of it." The draft is lifting my (metaphorical) skirt.

"Then why not go ahead and buy it?"

"Because the implementation of something like this is pretty serious, which is another reason we want you to look at it. Get a feel for what we might need ifwe decided to buy it. This is the kind of software that you have to think about how you are going to use it and what you need it for before you just start installing stuff." Lester replied.

"Fine, I'll review it. You said this was Manny's idea?" Three nods. "OK, then I'll hit him with the questions. When do you need my opinion?"

"A week, tops."

"Alright. Something written?"

"Please."

After that, we switch over to the news and just talk for a while. Tank tells me that Lula is dogging him to find out when I'll be released from this apartment. The decision not to allow anyone up on 7 really ticked her and Connie off. Bobby tells me that the cop shop is pretty quiet right now. Apparently, Morelli has not been seen in the office for a while but he's not undercover. This I already knew. I know exactly where he is or at least about where he is. I notice the guys giving me close looks while telling me this but I simply nod. No need to tell them anything about what happened. Lester fills me in on internal RangeMan business. Even though they haven't been visible to everyone else, they have been listening in, the sneaks.

"Believe me, Beautiful, we've been laughing our asses off at the theories that the guys have come up with. Everything from a circle jerk to us joining Ranger in a 'Stan has been considered!" Lester and Bobby are rolling on the floor laughing, but Tank shakes his head.

"Like I'd participate in a circle jerk with these two clowns. If I need a jerk, I can call—"

"LALALALALALALALA!"

More laughter. Sorry Tank. I really don't want to even think of you like that. Or Lula, cuz I'm sure that's where you were going.

By 10 PM, I'm yawning. Having the guys here has been great to lift my spirits and allow me to remain firmly in denial. I don't want to think about Joe, or Ranger, or bottom lines. I just want to remain oblivious.

* * *

Day six on forced confinement finds me finishing seven more searches (will they never end?) and completing another call to my hysterical mother. My disappearance into the mysterious building on Haywood with no 'Burg connections but a lot of hard bodies has finally intersected the realization that Trenton's sexiest cop has disappeared. Now everyone wants to know where Joe has gone. Am I really holed up in the building with Ranger? If so, are Ranger and I together now? Is that why Joe left? Because my leg isn't really broken? I'm just up here having a good time with Ranger while Joe is off crying and getting drunk with strippers? Is Joe even alive? Or have the RangeMen done away with his body to clear the way for their boss?

I think the 'Burg grapevine has intersected a Lifetime movie plot. Next thing you know, Joe's body will wash up in the Delaware River and I'll be the prime suspect. Again.

"Mom, I can't control what people think. I know that Ranger is not here and hasn't been here in almost 2 weeks. He was gone before I moved in."

"Then why do people keep saying you're living with him? Why me? Why do I have the daughter living in a building full of single men who won't marry her?"

My eye is twitching. "Mom, does a single person who calls you, besides me, have any connection with RangeMan? Do any of them know any of the RangeMen? Any of the RangeMen in gossip circles in the 'Burg?"

"It doesn't matter, Stephanie! Appearances still matter. You are still in that building—"

"Pumpkin, ignore your mother. There isn't anything else going on in this town besides crime and politics, so you make the better story. You look better than Chris Christie, at least." Not a compliment; everyone looks better than Chris Christie.

"Thanks Daddy. By the way, I meant to tell you the other night at dinner: If you want to move Grandma into my apartment for the next few weeks while I stay here, I'll send one of the guys over to the house with the keys so she can get in. Plus, I need to give Dillon a rent check."

"Don't worry about it Pumpkin. I'm on my way now." _Click._

Well, that should slow down the rumors coming from one house on Roosevelt Avenue. I call Ella (I still can't believe I have to route my calls through Ella) to help me. I remove the keys from the key ring and while I write a rent check, Ella places my keys on a ring for Grandma. Five minutes later my father arrives downstairs and Ella gives him the key to my place and the check. She later tells me that my father looked as if Christmas, New Year's and his birthday had all come at once.

Lunch brings another visit from BLT. This one is far more interesting.

"So Bomber, how do you feel?"

"Like I can't wait to get sprung from here on Monday. It's Saturday. I should be shopping." Three grimaces. No Quakerbridge Mall for these guys.

"Well Little Girl, remember, you're going from here to 5. That's it. And we've had a slight change in plans. Since neither Ranger nor I are using our offices, you can use one of them. And before you start arguing, I want you to consider the fact that our offices have couches. Lot more comfort than the sling under the cubicle approach we were originally going to go with."

I'm uncomfortable with using Ranger's office. I'm living in his apartment, in his building, working for his company while under the care and protection of his men. Trying to contribute to his bottom line. Much more and I might as well get his name tattooed on my ass. And why aren't you using your office? Nevermind.

"I'll work from your office, Tank. More central to the action and I think more friendly."

Tank raises an eyebrow. "My office is 'more friendly'?"

"Yeah. I mean, the guys step into Ranger's office and they immediately straighten their backs and come to attention. Hell, I've seen them fall into parade rest unconsciously. Ranger's office, even when he isn't there, is intimidating." This gets me a blank stare before he relaxes and nods.

"Ok. I'll make sure there's plenty of room for you to maneuver in my office."

"Thanks."

"Beautiful, we need to ask you a serious question. I know you don't like to talk about your relationship with Morelli so we aren't going to ask you about that. We simply want to know if you know where he is and what he's doing."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Let's just say the silence at the cop shop is overwhelming."

I don't want to answer this. How would Ranger answer this? What would Ranger do?

"Yes, I kinda know where he is and what he's doing." Three blank faces are encouraging me to share more details and I want to give them enough to discourage further questions. "How would you guys put it: Further intel needs to be obtain from a source with higher clearance." Well, that just gave it away and judging from the looks on their faces, they got it.

"Thanks Beautiful. No further questions." Thank god. I suck at evasive. The rest of lunch passes with the usual joking and fun. I show the guys what I've been doing with Manny's site. Manny caught on and has been communicating with me through it, mostly pushing fake paper and orders through the processes he set up. I have to admit, I like it, but I don't want it to take over the offices. Something like this could easily encourage the guys not to talk as much internally and with the other offices but I can also see how it would increase effectiveness tremendously. I can see storing notes on skips and clients in here, available for all the men to review, and storing info on 'sources' and cops. I think the good outweighs the negatives, but I can also see how the setup is going to be a PITA (pain in the ass) and there are some things that I don't think Manny and Hector have considered in this little project. Lester wasn't joking when he said you have to think about how you are going to use something like this before you buy it. But overall, I like it. I would buy it and I would pay someone else to set it up.

"OK Little Girl, you think we should go with it?"

"Yeah, I think you should. I still want to play with it for a few more days, but I think it's a great move. I also think you're going to need to decide how you are going to roll this out, if you are going to roll it out to the other offices—"

"Whoa! Not my job. That little bit of fun will belong to Manny. Now, have you thought about the job offer we discussed?"

Yes, I had.

* * *

Two days ago, when I had nothing to do but eat, sleep, and run searches, I thought about the job offer the guys had given me. On the face of it, it was a spectacular offer. Head of Bonds Enforcement and Client Services. I could be the face of RangeMan and still get out into the field and chase skips, just like Ranger.

Then I saw that calendar.

I removed everything except what was going on in Apprehensions, Manny's department and I realized that I would be out of my depth. Manny truly ran Apprehensions like a well-oiled machine. Tank was right when he said that the capture rate was 93% and it was due in large part to the fact that Manny ran that department like a champ. The PI services that RangeMan had just started offering were making money hand over fist. Using my research, Manny and the Apprehensions team set up the take downs and carted them off to the cop shop within 48 hours. This month they were edging toward 100%. I was in awe of the work that Manny was doing and he was never in the garbage. Plus, now he was doing Lester's job and apparently handling it with confidence. Looking at the calendar, it looked as if Manny really needed more men. I didn't want to mess with that. He was doing a spectacular job where he was.

Then I took a look at Client Relations. Basically, it was sales, which would mean pantyhose. Yes, I could be the face of RangeMan but I'd never get out into the field. I could represent RangeMan and really help the guys out by softening the hard edges but let's face it, I don't stay clean enough for that. Plus I don't have the personality necessary to schmooze clients for hours and make them feel better. You either wanted the best and were willing to pay for it or you went to our competitors, err, Ranger's competitors.

I didn't want either job. One sucked and the other already had the perfect person in charge. Now, how do I break it to the guys?

"I don't want either job." OK, that wasn't diplomatic but the looks of complete shock on their faces were almost funny.

"Damn Beautiful, I gotta admit, I didn't think you'd turn us down," Lester said softly. "Why not?"

I explained my reasons for turning down the head of Bonds Enforcement and after a moment, all three nodded.

"I have to agree with you Bomber. Manny has done above and beyond what we expected and even after dumping Lester's duties into his lap, he continues to excel. I understand your reasoning there. So why not Client Relations?"

I explained my hatred of pantyhose and my inability to stay clean and charming for 8 hours a day. This got some rough chuckles, but again, they agreed.

"Guys, my first thought when you offered me those jobs was 'I get to be Ranger!', but I'm not Ranger and I couldn't be." I laughed. "He told me when we met, when I was trying to capture Joe, that there was him and there was me and I would never be as good as him. He's right. Ranger is in a league of his own."

"Then I guess it's good we came up with a third job offer for you, huh, Little Girl?"

"Tank, I'll consider anything you suggest but I don't know how you could top the Head of Bonds Enforcement. I mean, if Manny weren't doing such a great job, I might have jumped on it, but I can't take it from him just because I want to try. So what could you possibly have come up with that could beat that?"

"RangeMan CO."

* * *

I'm in my thinking position on Ranger's bed, smelling a combination of my hair conditioner, Bvlgari, and Ranger's fading scent. I've avoided rolling onto this pillow just so I can keep the scent as long as possible but I need it tonight. I think Ella has figured it out because she hasn't washed this pillowcase since I moved in.

RangeMan CO.

What in the HELL are Bobby, Tank, and Lester up to?


	6. The Art of War

**A/N**: Get comfy to read this chapter. It's a long one, but pivotal and we are ducking into the minds of every single man who has been involved in the story thus far. This will give you the overall view of what's going on and should answer a **lot** of questions. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Art of War**

_The art of war is of vital importance to the state. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence under no circumstances can it be neglected._

_Sun Tzu_

* * *

**Lester's POV**

_All men can see these tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved._

This has been one hell of an interesting week. The one thing Bobby, Tank, and I agreed on from the beginning was that Stephanie's changes had to be genuine. **She** had to want to make the changes; we were not going to bully or force her to do it. Considering how angry Bobby was over why Ranger is still accepting missions, we agreed that we were **not** going to be the ones to help her improve (and to tell the truth, I am still more than a little frustrated and angry too). She's been turning down the assistance of the best, Ranger, for years for little more than bullshit reasons so we were not getting involved. We were **not** teaching her self-defense or how to shoot. We were **not** going to spend time teaching her offensive and defensive driving. We were not going to bully her into improving and we were not going to volunteer to help her. Our duty was to RangeMan since Ranger was gone. If she really meant to change, if she really wanted to learn, she would have to accept help from those we left behind. Then we would know she meant it and she was doing it for her, not for us or Ranger. That didn't mean that I wasn't going to stack the deck though.

Sun Tzu wrote "_Supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting_." It's my favorite quote in dealing with all people but most especially those who I know are going to give me trouble, like Beautiful. She is truly a wily and cunning adversary, extremely unpredictable, and trying to maneuver her is all the practice I need in order to maintain my edge as a tactical leader and commander. This psy-op required I pull every bit of skill I possess, expect the unexpected, anticipate her possible countermoves and cut off all avenues of retreat and misdirection. I think I've done a damn good job of it.

I expected her to accept the offer to live at RangeMan while she recovered and it was crucial that she did; the psy-op hinged on getting her out of her apartment. We need to be able to control her total environment. All her other options were terrible and I made sure that Tank and Bobby were gentle in pointing that out. Her conditions were completely predictable too and since I had the good fortune to have been up the longest, Bobby and Tank had the joy of pulling "dinner duty." Bobby's face still has a haunted look to it and it should. He ducked that particular bit of hell for a long time. Now that Beautiful's mother has made it clear that she expects contact with **him**, not Ranger or Tank, he's living in constant fear of having to accompany Steph to dinner more often.

The decision not to allow anyone, aside from ourselves and Ella, up on 7 was not just practical, it was tactical. When Ella isn't around and we don't show up for meals, then Beautiful's all alone up there, surrounded by Ranger and his life, his world, and having to confront her true feelings and thoughts. We know that Ranger's done some dumb things regarding her, said some incredibly stupid shit, but the man's actions tell a different story. Why on earth do women say they want the actions then pretend not to understand when they get them? Talk is cheap. The way he bleeds the company, his personal bank accounts, and his very body dry for that woman demonstrates a level of love and attachment for her that the words "I love you" are a mere shadow for.

Besides, who declares undying love to a woman who continually runs back and forth with another man? Ranger might be in love but he still has his pride; he's no Morelli substitute. I love Beautiful, in ways I really shouldn't, but I'm not ready to bleed like Ranger does without a much firmer commitment. Ranger looks at Steph the way a woman on a diet looks at a candy bar. She knows she shouldn't touch it, it probably isn't good for her, and one bite will not satisfy. She wants the entire candy bar. Ranger wants all of Steph. It's clear he's had the bite and now he's just waiting for the other fucker eyeing the bar to walk away. Problem is, he isn't sure what to do with the bar once he has it. Fucking idiot. I'll run a psy-op on him if necessary, but later. Gotta plan that one out. Definitely wouldn't be able to make **any** mistakes with him.

Meanwhile Beautiful has to confront her true feelings about both Ranger and Joe and we're stacking the deck in Ranger's favor. Left alone with nothing but searches to do, no skips to chase, and no one to really come and relieve her mind with chattering bullshit means all she has to do is think about Ranger, and Joe, if she must. I asked Ella, when she goes up to chat, to make sure that her conversation contains references to Ranger. Not only am I aware that she soaks up any stories or references to Ranger but I want to put him forefront in her mind because she has to make a decision. She needs to look objectively at her life, the men in it and her decisions and make some. She can't continue to tuck and roll from this situation. Two weeks of forced confinement? I couldn't ask for a more heaven-sent opportunity.

Nor could I ask for better circumstances. As usual, when Beautiful is involved in a situation, the residual fall out is spectacular. Normally it's exploding cars or dead bodies but in this case, I'm referring to Manny, Ram and Hal. Bobby, Tank, and I, have been blown away by the ease with which they've run Trenton and the ideas and suggestions they have for making the company better.

At first, we expected to take the reins back after 72 hours. Then, after watching the way they handled the first 48 hours, we realized that we could give ourselves some real planning time by letting them take point for a full week. Now, with one day remaining, we're in a quandary. To allow them to run point for 2 straight weeks, without a declared state of emergency, is going to send this company into a tailspin. We are aware of the constant questions from the other branches and the quiet feeling of panic in Trenton. Normally when we aren't running point for this long, either Beautiful's in trouble or we're about to join Ranger in the field. Neither is the case and we've been walking around looking relaxed, trying to get the men to calm down, but it isn't working. They know Steph's upstairs safe and sound and we aren't running around with ready packs, checking ammo and living in the range, so we aren't joining Ranger. So what in the hell is going on?

Again, Sun Tzu: _"The clever combatant looks to the effect of combined energy, and does not require too much from individuals, he takes individual talent into account, and uses each man according to his capabilities."_ Ram has bloodshot eyes from checking and rechecking the "Bomber" files and he isn't making any connections, so he's trying not to panic in front of the men. Hal is keeping his head down and running point like Tank would, a true military man, following orders, waiting to receive more information. Only Manny appears less concerned. We made a point to listen to C2 right after Tank sent the email about 'Core 2' running point for a week. The fact that Manny considered, rejected, and latched on to the correct assumption so fast shocked the shit outta me. This man is really wasted just doing apprehensions. We need to develop his strategic and tactical abilities and set him loose. Moreover, he had the balls to ask me about it directly, no faking, no bullshit. Yeah, I like the idea of leaving Manny right where he is and letting him have more strategic and tactical duties.

I think Ram is a little concerned that maybe he had put himself out of the running (if Manny is right about this being a job audition) because he hasn't presented us with some great idea yet, but he couldn't be further from the truth. He's done a great job mentoring and backing up Hal and serving as a liaison to the other offices. He has the ability to give just enough information to the other offices to keep them from calling back (except Mark, nosy fucker) but not enough to divulge the true status of RM Trenton. That's a gift. Besides, I can see on his face that he's starting to think about ideas and suggestions he might want to bring up to us.

We knew that Hal was a stickler for details (reading his reports, you almost feel as if you were there; never read his Bombshell reports) but the calendar was an excellent idea. Having a visual for the work, instead of all the spreadsheets we were using, was both creative and practical. I wasn't sure about their decision to have Hal serve as XO; Hal's naiveté is legendary. However, Tank said to let that one work out and now I see why. Hal is great as XO; he just needed confidence, same situation as Beautiful. I think Tank's gift really made him feel like he was trusted which boosted his confidence. His performance after that was outstanding; he was settling into the job as if he owned it and I now have no qualms about leaving Hal in charge as XO. I also get the feeling that the calendar isn't the last idea we'll see from Hal, but we need to encourage him to loosen up and feel he **can** contribute ideas that we will listen to. Actually we need to do that with all the employees.

The calendar idea did what nothing else could: it forced Beautiful to look at what she costs RangeMan **and** what Ranger's juggling in his life without anyone putting pressure on her or directing her to it. Her own curiosity drove her to examine the calendar. Again, Sun Tzu said it best: _In all fighting, the direct method may be used for joining battle, but indirect methods will be needed in order to secure victory. _Ella said she spent hours staring at those calendars and she had a panic attack that we aren't supposed to know about. I'm guessing she did the math and realized what she costs. Ella swore us to secrecy about that but in the end she decided to tell us because she is also in favor of Steph joining Ranger's life and is willing to do whatever is necessary to push her towards the right decision. The vegan meal this week was a prime example. Ella, Beautiful's paragon of womanly achievement and the person most likely to defy Ranger's orders regarding her diet, fed her a meal full of bark and twigs and she loved it. She ate every bit of it. The vegan meal was completely out of left field (Ella didn't even tell us) and she's eaten every low calorie, low fat meal Ella has placed in front of her this week so she can't say that she couldn't stick to a modified diet. Even the doughnuts Ella has given her have been baked. I'm thankful that Ella decided to participate. Indirect methods lead to victory.

So now, because Core 2 has done such a great job and we've gotten spoiled with all this planning time, what to do? My vote during last night's planning session was to bring each XO up to Trenton for 3 days, explain that we were going incommunicado for about 4 weeks, and introduce Beautiful as CO. I already know that she will accept the job, mostly because of the way I plan to sell it to her, but she needs time to have a rhino moment and visit Denial. She knows that Tank and I are blowing smoke up her ass by only giving her bits and pieces and it's pissing her off but if we aren't directly in her face when she starts blowing up then she can't storm away (or in this case, scream at us to leave). This is basic tactics, simple shit the Cop could've implemented years ago, but he's Italian too so they just feed each other. Ranger's spent so much time trying not to give himself away that he doesn't realize that the blank face just irritates her. She has to be able to see emotions in order to decide how to respond. Blank faces cause her to default to frustrated or angry. Mostly angry.

The hardest part of going to talk to her is reminding Tank and Bobby to use the blank face sparingly and to actually talk; she won't scream at us because she respects us too much but that blank face puts the plan behind. Tank returns to his apartment and hides under cold compresses after every visit, which I find hilarious. Anyway, dealing with her rhino mode is simple: Present an idea designed to tick her off and either cut her off with an explanation before she can truly get going or remove yourself from the premises until she has time to calm down. This time, we cut out, mostly because we knew the job offer would overwhelm her and no amount of explaining would calm her down.

Tank and Bobby were stunned when I said that Beautiful wouldn't accept either job offer once I was aware she was looking at the calendar. They were certain that they were looking at their next head of Bonds Enforcement. I pointed out that if you just looked at the Apprehensions department, which is what she would need to take to create a "Bonds Enforcement" division, the level of work there is just overwhelming. Manny's already got it down to a science because his law enforcement background has taught him how to juggle it all. Plus, as we so kindly pointed out, she's shit at apprehension. So we already have a head of Apprehensions, Manny, and a head of Research, Jose Rodriguez; what would there be for her to do? Trainer? Nope, that's office work. She wasn't going to take Client Relations because it would require pantyhose. Yeah, there were other reasons too, but it really just boiled down to the pantyhose. I already knew what her personal reasons were: working full-time for RangeMan meant spending more time with Ranger than she was comfortable with, especially when she and the Cop were 'on'. Plus, she'd have to actually meet the standards. When she and the Cop were 'off' being around Ranger depressed her because he won't commit to a relationship.

However, CO is a job she can do and do well. She wants to be Ranger, regardless of what she said. I said it before: adrenaline junkie. Being the CO of RangeMan while we bring up the San Antonio office would (a) guarantee that she stayed firmly under RangeMan protection, (b) force her to get the training she's needed for years without anyone demanding she do it, (c) give her a taste of being Ranger for a while, (d) allow her to oversee some of the projects we have going on in house (or will soon), (e) keep her out of the 'Burg gossip for a few months, and (f) ease the rest of RangeMan LLC into accepting Beautiful as a permanent eventual part of the Leadership Core Team, because I'm not stupid enough to think that Ranger hasn't had that idea in the back of his mind forever. Besides, it will signal to the men exactly what is about to happen. Leadership Core Team will not be at RM Trenton, there is a CO and a new Core team in place at RMTrenton and something big is about to happen.

There is only **one** CO in all of RangeMan and that's Ranger himself. To declare Beautiful CO under our orders will signal not just her importance to Ranger but to the Leadership Core team and RangeMan as a whole. It's important to distinguish that she's CO, not Acting CO. Acting CO implies that RM LLC just has to put up with her until Ranger returns. The smarter individuals will realize that not even Tank has been designated CO in Ranger's absences; Tank has simply been Chief XO, the one everyone reports to. Some of the offices will wonder if we've lost our minds here (or if Ranger is dead) but it will work. I just need to know if Ranger's orders have fully started or if we have time to get him on a video conference in front of the XOs before he has to cut all communication.

If I've been thinking about it, I know Ranger thought about it, plotted it, and was just waiting for the right moment to execute. He's the only man I know who rivals me in strategy and tactics and (I'll never admit this aloud) he does edge me out. However, he'll be gone for a year and I have time to implement **my** plan. So of course, when Beautiful turned down both jobs, I felt vindicated in my assessment. It felt even better to actually hear her say that her first thought was "I get to be Ranger!" Yeah, in some things, Beautiful is truly predictable. So Tank offered her the CO role and, just as I suspected, she was shocked speechless. We kissed her cheeks and high-tailed it back to my office to plan.

* * *

**Tank's POV**

"_What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins, but excels in winning with ease."_

OK, I'll admit it again (in my head): Santos is a fucking genius. He's called everything right so far and I've gone from believing that he's just lucky to realizing that he really doesn't get enough opportunities to exercise his brilliance. We just left Little Girl on 7, in shock at the idea of becoming CO for a year. Bobby and I sit at Lester's table and wait to hear the next step. Now, where did I put my cold compresses?

"OK, let's call Ella. Comfort food, lots of dessert, and a couple boxes of Kleenex. Dinner solo. She'll accept the job offer tomorrow, but we're going to have to talk about San Antonio with her. Tank, any chance we can talk to Ranger tonight? We need to tell him what we're up to now and he's going to have to talk to her tonight. She won't accept until after she's talked to him."

Damn, crying? More crying? If we offered CO to any man in the company they'd jump at it. Steph will have to be dragged but we're willing to take the chance. Bobby calls in the dinner order to a thrilled Ella, I page Ranger to call me back (cb sp ASAP def5 ywfine: Call back, sat phone, As soon as possible, DEFCON 5 (situation normal), your woman is fine) and we start finalizing the move. I call 5 and tell Junior to tell Hal to run the 1300 solo, no Core (i.e., the Core Team won't be down for the 1300 mtg. Core 2 is on their own). I get a message back: sp 1730 (Sat phone at 1730). I show Les and he grins. Perfect. We'll have Ranger on board before we go talk to our Little Girl tomorrow.

We've scouted out three security companies in the San Antonio area that are going under. A lack of proper planning, increased burglaries, a loss of clients and a failure to understand the market are forcing each of these companies to close their doors. The best part of the job will be the amount of Bonds Enforcement and Fugitive Apprehension work available. It's physical, difficult work, but the payoff is spectacular. Getting this office up and running will ease financial concerns across the company as a whole and really allow us to take this company to the next level. Because we had the plans in deep freeze for so long, we really only needed to determine what men from each of the offices to take. Since we have an existing company, pulling men from the existing offices and offering them a short-term relocation to San Antonio will ease concerns about hiring and staff. We can move quickly into making money and hiring staff at our leisure over the year instead of having to really pray that we get the right ones.

Plus, seeing our men on the streets will immediately make the right impression on those we want to hire. San Antonio has a strong military presence and being able to recruit directly from the military men there is a great perk. Plus it's close to the border and nothing says money like "Federal Fugitive." Some of our best money comes from captures we've made for the FBI, DEA, ATF, ICE, you name 'em, we've hauled skips in for 'em. Plus, unlike most security companies, we like hiring ex-cons and ex-gang bangers, as long as they've completely cut ties with their former life (or, in Hector's case, are still so feared on the streets that retaliation is not a factor). These guys have no fear, a different way of looking at problems and situations, and they have what we like to term the "Plum mentality," i.e. a way of getting intel that the military can't begin to touch. Integrating these populations can sometimes be difficult, but we've done it successfully three times. We know what we're doing.

I'm not thrilled about not having my eyes on my Little Girl and leaving her here under someone else's care, but Lester believes that an essential part of showing her we believe in her is leaving her here with the RMTrenton Core Team to direct. I don't think Bobby is truly convinced about this yet but Lester will get him there; besides, we both know Lester is a tactical genius. If he says it will work, then it will. I don't think there will be any challenges to their leadership here in Trenton. All three men can hold their own on the mats, an essential part of leadership in RangeMan, and every man in this office loves Steph like a little sister. Providing protection will not be a problem. Although we don't particularly like it, if we left Ram, Hal, and Manny to coordinate Bombshell's protection I have every confidence that it would be done and done as excellently as they've handled everything else this week. The XOs and the men in the other offices might have a fit, but we'll put those down quickly. I'm already resolved that challenges to her leadership are both a challenge to my leadership and an insult to Ranger and his leadership. I want someone to get it in their head to challenge her.

I need the exercise.

* * *

**Bobby's POV**

Lester had to talk me into naming Bomber as CO. I was completely against it. No way, no where, no how was I naming the most accident prone, contraband eating, exercise ducking member of RangeMan to lead the whole shebang. Didn't we **just** have this discussion? Impulsive, shit at takedown, quick to anger, won't listen to anyone when **she's** in a mood, even when it's her own safety at risk? **Her**? The real reason Ranger keeps accepting these assignments? **Her**? The single biggest reason this branch is having problems staying profitable?

**NOT A CHANCE! NO FUCKING WAY!**

However, as usual, Lester got his way. He simply pointed out that this entire psy-op would fail (and our move to San Antonio would die) if we didn't. I'm still not truly convinced about this; I've merely given in because Lester has never failed before. Then again, he's never run a psy-op against Bomber before.

"Think about it Bobby. We've already modified her diet. The only doughnuts she's seen have been baked and Ella has been feeding her meals in line with RangeMan standards. Low-fat, low-sodium, low-calorie. She can't make the argument that she can't follow the diet and she hasn't been begging Ella to bring her other stuff. Plus, if she wants to eat something greasy, like Cluck in a Bucket, she'll have to leave site to do it and for the next 11 weeks, her mobility is limited."

"Yeah, 11 weeks and then she's back to making chicken runs with Lula! Sneaking to Tasty Pastry, hitting the grocery stores for Ben and Jerry and TastyKakes! And you know Bomber. She'll either lie about it or try to deflect, except that all the men will see that the CO doesn't follow guidelines and they'll know it because she has trackers on her car, in her purse and in her earrings! NO!"

"Bobby, calm down! There are ways of dealing with this. The biggest advantage we have is Ella! Ella can feed Beautiful anything and she'll eat it. She's still eating Ella's meals now and Ella fed her a vegan meal! That's trust. Being CO means having to succumb to healthy meals and if Ella is cooking them, she'll eat them. Besides, it's not like she can't have her junk on occasion. We have Shorty's every so often. It's about moderation and we have to teach Beautiful about moderation."

"Fine, we've modified her diet for the moment. But I think you underestimate Steph's devotion to her junk food. The woman makes no bones about the fact that dessert makes up the base of her food pyramid! She's never met a meatball sub or pizza she wouldn't eat. Ella's an advantage but she's not a miracle cure! And diet modification doesn't make up for the lack of exercise and the lack of range time." Tank is watching this discussion with interest. I can't wait to see how Lester's going to explain this.

"Look, Steph eats like that because it's cheap, easy food and she's perpetually low on cash. The dessert thing is a function of her family. I think Ranger once said something about her mother showing love by making pineapple upside-down cake so she equates sugar with love. With Ella to cook her meals Steph doesn't have to make any decisions about what to eat. Ella's made no secret of the fact that she's feeding Beautiful healthy meals and she's still eating whatever Ella puts in front of her face. As for the exercise, she has 10 weeks forced physical therapy for the leg. That's 10 forced weeks of exercise and who says she can't do some exercises right now? There have to be some exercises she can do while still on bed rest. Remember, we promised her flexibility. Right now, she runs from the gym, but in another week she'll have to be down there for the leg. Let's find her a physical therapist slash trainer who can work with her using non-traditional exercises, like ….I don't know, Zumba!"

"Zumba?" Tank asks. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a new exercise thing, combines dance and martial arts. I heard some women talking about it at the grocery store and apparently they love it. I only paid attention because one woman said that she hated exercise but she loved that." I raise an eyebrow and Lester smiles without shame. I bet money he paid attention because he was checking her ass more than he was listening to her words. "And from what I hear, aquatic exercise is low impact, which is great for her leg, but high resistance, which is great for weight loss and strength training."

"Fine. That's true. Alright, I can see how the physical therapy would lead into exercise. I'll give you that one, but I'll add that you're assuming that she sticks with it after her leg heals. Range time?"

Lester's grin is reaching massive proportions. "We're leaving her here with the best sniper in the company, Ram, who will become liaison which means he's Core Team. Knowing that she has to set an example, we just need to slip a word into Ram's ear that he needs to convince her to make time for the range. Maybe go with her and make it into a competition. Make it fun for her. That man loves his guns. We'll make it his job to see that she becomes proficient with them."

I hate that Lester has an answer for everything. I **really** hate that all his answers are good.

"Fine. You've convinced me on diet, exercise, and range time that we have a solution. Hand to Hand? Trackers?"

"I think she will voluntarily wear the trackers. I'm hoping that if we can get Ranger to talk to her, he'll insist on the trackers, not that we plan on allowing anyone to get close enough to kidnap her, but ya never know. Hand to Hand we'll leave with Manny and Hal. Besides, every man in the company would love to get on the mats with Steph and teach her what they know. Mat time with the CO could actually become something to look forward to instead of something to dread."

"You're assuming something big here. You're assuming that she remains on 7 for the next year. She's run from 7 the moment the threat is gone every time and I don't see that changing anytime soon."

Lester is smug now. "Bobby, give me a real argument here. First the job of the CO is exhausting. The first few weeks Beautiful's going to be too tired to do anything besides sleep and eat. Once she gets accustomed to it, she'll recognize the value of staying on 7. That's why I had Tank tell her that it's Ranger's **preference** for her to stay there. Let that seep in and she'll start getting more comfortable with the thought. Second, I never thought I would say this but Edna Mazur is our ally." Tank and I shiver. My balls tingle. They don't even like the sound of her name. "Edna is moving into Beautiful's apartment, an apartment where she is still paying rent so Beautiful still has all the advantages of having a place to disappear to **if** she starts to feel smothered here. However, she doesn't like staying with her Granny either. And Mr. Plum is thrilled to have Edna out his house. The idea that Edna has to move back into his house because Stephanie wants to move back into her apartment when she has full run of an apartment here will kill him. Let him get use to 10 weeks of peace and quiet. Beautiful will do anything for him; she's a Daddy's girl. When she sees, week after week, how happy her father is not to have Edna in his house, she'll cave and stay on 7, where she has all the delights of Ella and no possibility of stalkers and dead bodies."

"Fine. New wrench. 11 weeks of therapy, then she marches back to Vinnie for her old job."

"Not gonna happen. Three months gives Vinnie a lot of time to find a new BEA and he will. Harry is backing him; he can't afford to be without a competent BEA for that long. Otherwise he'll have to get back out there. Of course, that's not to say that I haven't already paid Vinnie a very quiet visit at home to 'encourage' him to find another BEA." Lester's grin is evil. Amusing. "Not that he needed much encouragement. He's already had to pull two back in himself. Beautiful had a full load of skips and her injury could be financially devastating for him. According to Connie, he's already made up his mind that if he finds someone, Steph's done for. That's why Connie's been calling here so much, to give Steph the heads up. So, we aren't even out of week one and she's been confronted with the knowledge that what we said in her apartment a few days ago is true: Vinnie is already trying to replace her and there's nothing she can do about it."

I shake my head. Lester has given this a lot of thought. "You're assuming a lot."

Lester stops smiling and is completely serious. "Yes, I'm assuming a lot but that's because in any given situation, you have to account for all variables and determine, based on your knowledge of the subject, how they will best respond. This plan is based on the knowledge that Beautiful thinks that she needs to prove that she's not incompetent as a BEA. It proves to her mother, the cops, and Morelli that not only is she not incompetent as a BEA but that she is a highly skilled security professional and it proves to her that we believe in her as much as Ranger does. It just gives us the added value of making sure she gets trained without us having to do it personally." Lester smiles and slouches in his seat confidently. "That's why I know this plan will work. We've already told her we want her to come work for us. We offered her two jobs which she turned down, one for valid reasons, one for bullshit but I think the pantyhose thing is just a woman's issue. This works even better. When it comes to company matters, can you think of anyone you trust more than Beautiful?" No, I can't, so I shake my head. Stephanie Plum has earned my trust and I don't give it lightly.

"So, we offer her the CO spot, which she **will** take, believe me. Accepting the position means accepting that she has to lead by example. It means that she has to become proficient at every single RangeMan standard. It means **she** has to make the decision to do it. We are simply offering her an opportunity she will want to take, but it has strings attached, strings she will want to but cannot duck. Since we won't be here for her to ask, she will have to accept help from the men to meet the standards. We will come back and evaluate her before we release her back into the field but we **won't** train her. She'll have to do it on her own. Genuine change. No half-assed motions. No being bullied by us. She has to motivate herself in order to lead the company. And **every** man here and everywhere else will be watching. She doesn't like to fail publicly. She'll make the changes. It will be her decision and we get the joy of watching Ranger return to a 'Babe' who has finally gotten the training she needs, has led his company, and if we're lucky, has increased the bottom line. Wins all around. Hopefully at the end of it Ranger removes his head from his ass and makes it official with her, because I think I'll be sick if I did all this work just to watch her run back to Morelli."

"_To win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill. To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill."_

I didn't want to be convinced but he did it. Leaving Bomber in charge meant she would have to lead by example. We wouldn't be forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do. She would finally get the training she needed only she would be doing it because she wanted to and had to, not because we forced her to. It wouldn't be our demands that made her meet the standards; it would be our belief in her abilities that would force her to prove us right. We would lead the horse to water. She would have to decide if she wanted to drink.

I really hate when Lester is right. I wonder what those pirates are up to.

* * *

The call is completely unexpected. It's patched to my cell from 5 and Junior is kind enough to tell me not to answer with "Yo!"

"Hello?"

"Bobby? This is Helen Plum. How are you?" Scared, that's how I am. You can't want anything good.

"I'm fine Mrs. Plum. How are you?" I'm a southern boy, raised right. I know my manners.

"Helen, please. I'm fine. I'm calling to invite you, Stephanie and Tank to dinner tomorrow. Six PM sharp. I'm planning on pot roast with mashed potatoes and gravy." You really like your mashed potatoes and gravy, don't you? Will I have to sit next to the man-child or your mom? "I'm about to call Stephanie and let her know but I do expect to see her tomorrow. It's been a week and I want to see how she's doing."

"Yes, ma'am. We'll coordinate this with Steph. I appreciate your invitation." No I don't, which is why I haven't agreed to attend.

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye."

I don't want to go. I refuse to go.

We've been invited (summoned) to another Plum family meal. I no longer have any doubt; Mrs. Plum has some tactical skill: _If the enemy is taking his ease, harass him; if quietly encamped, force him to move; if well supplied with food, starve him out._

* * *

**Hal's POV**

My week as XO is instructive, exhausting, and enlightening. Never again will I question anything that comes out of Tank's mouth. As far as I'm concerned, Tank is the most brilliant, organized, together man I've ever known. If I have a question about a decision I need to make, I ask _'What would Tank do?'_ If I still don't know, I go ask Ram for advice, make my own decision and pray I did the right thing. I'm not getting any 'you screwed up' emails from Tank, so I guess I'm in the clear. My Bible has been cracked multiple times this week but I stopped worrying so much when I reached C2 on Day 5 and found a new Bible and a copy of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ in front of my seat. Manny and Ram looked over at me when I picked up _The Art of War_ and found a note attached.

_For every general. It is my daily read._

"_If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle."_

_Tank_

I finally relaxed that day. I understood the message. He trusted me to use my judgment to carry out my assignment. The enemy was self-doubt and I could fight that. So I began to review all Tank's assignments as XO and I realized that some of the things I was doing really belonged to a CO. I know Ram said he still hadn't given me 25% of my job, but I began to wonder if part of what he hadn't given me were the duties of a CO. Nevertheless, I looked at what was on my plate currently and realized that a lot of this stuff needed to be reorganized. For example, we have an entire Apprehensions department, so why am I the person picking up the bond files? We have to turn in body receipts each day, so why not make that one trip for someone from Apprehensions? And now that I have the schedules on the grid, why not let the coordination of the jobs and the Apprehensions department stay in that department? As long as it is on the calendar and I can see it, does the XO really need to be involved in that?

I pull my new leather folio out, the one I'm using just for questions I want to ask and changes I might want to make and add that to my list. I think Manny is right; we are auditioning for these jobs. I still don't know if I want Tank's job but I won't stumble while I have it. I'm determined to do this right.

I spot King out the corner of my eye. Is this fool really trying to sneak in late with…_doughnuts?_

* * *

**Ram POV**

I'm officially a dead man walking. I can't determine what the threat is. All the intel at my disposal says there is no threat, but. . . I can't account for the past week. Bombshell's on 7, apparently fine. The speed with which she's tossing back those searches is amazing. Her leg is healing and according to Ella, she's been paying attention to her emails and the calendar. She's playing in the virtual RangeMan world to Manny's delight. He's pushing paper with her and trying to direct her to his favorite bits of the software. He's determined to make her love it. The core team is walking around with smiles on their faces. That's truly scary. They seem pleased about something and they aren't sharing. They spend most of their time holed up in Lester's office or Tank's apartment. I bet against the circle-jerk but. . . no, I'm sure I'm right about that. At minimum, Tank would've called Lula.

Manny is in a world of his own, the lucky fucker. He convinced Tank, notorious for his tight-fisted control of money, to spend almost $50K on a collaboration platform that will take months to implement and since it will be implemented company wide, that means he's just created ass-loads of work for me. Assuming I live and assuming that I keep this job. If he's right, and we've been auditioning to keep the job we have, then he's got his job. I'm not so sure about me. I'm still in the weeds trying to see the sun. I have ideas, but the core team hasn't been around lately for me to attempt to present them. It's like they're here but they aren't.

Hal and I have agreed that pulse checks lately have bordered on the hysterical. Every XO and liaison wants to know what the threat level at RM Trenton is. _There is none. Fine, fine, it's DEFCON 5_. Why they can't get the Core team on the phone. _Not our business. Need to leave a message?_ Why **we** are now being called Core Team 2. _Ask the Core Team. My bad. You wanna leave a message?_ Are they supposed to implement a Core Team 2 in their offices? _Were those your orders? No? Then no._ The first few days after the announcement came out were the toughest. Even our own colleagues at RM Trenton were giving us the side eye. The morning Hal caught Roger King sneaking in late, Day 5, doughnuts in hand was classic.

"King!" Half the office jumps. King whirls around, doughnuts in hand.

"Shit, Hal, you scared me! Whatcha want?"

I slammed the blank face in place. This was about to get very interesting. Hal didn't say anything. He simply glanced at the clock visible behind Roger's head then at the doughnuts in hand.

"What time are you supposed to report?" King looks confused, then indignant. Hey pissant, you haven't been here long enough to be indignant.

"0900."

"What time is it now?"

"0909," he snarls. Oh he isn't making this any better and Hal is not amused. The man is tired. Being XO is exhausting. I still haven't given him the other 25% of the work.

"Who do you want to report to on the mats, me or Manny?" Now there's a hush over the entire bullpen. King looks astonished. There is no correct answer for this question. For all his size and weight, Hal moves like Tank. As a matter of fact, Hal spent lots of time on the mats with Tank, voluntarily, to learn how to be that graceful and agile in order to counter the idea that big meant blundering. So between Hal's ability to slam those ham-sized fists into your face and Manny's ultimate street fighter/kickboxing abilities you just have to decide how you want your ass whooping to be served to you.

Thankfully or unfortunately for King, Manny has caught the entire exchange from the doorway. "No need to choose, King." He smiles and King smiles back. He thinks his boss has just saved him. "Hal, you actually caught him, so you can have him first at 1200. I'll take him at 1700. Right, King? And since you're late **and **insubordinate, we'll push a request to dock your pay."

You coulda dropped a SBD and we still would have heard it at that point.

The rest of the morning passed in absolute silence. 1155 found almost every available man in RM Trenton in the gym. Hal was standing in the middle of the mats, arms crossed, calmly waiting. I was standing behind him as his second and that fucker was channeling Tank. So of course, when the Core Team walked in at 1157 there was great interest in seeing if they were going to call it off. Nope. Tank walked directly over to me and nodded to the side of the mats. I moved off and Bobby moved right next to me. I look over and Lester is standing next to Manny. There's no question about the Core Team's allegiance.

The next 45 minutes are instructive. Hal bounces King all across the mats, just fucking with him. King occasionally lands a punch but for every punch he lands Hal sends his head bouncing. After 45 minutes, I guess Hal got tired of fucking with him because he just starts pounding. Tank is not stopping him. The message is being sent to all of RM Trenton: _We set these men in our places. We gave them the authority. They have our support. You will respect their requests, their decisions, and their punishments as if they were our own._ Hal finally leaves King alone when the man is smart enough to stay down. Bobby motions Zero forward, the backup medic, to check on him. Bobby checks Hal, bandages his hands and hands him a bottle of water and two pills. He nods to Hal, slaps him on the back and turns to leave. Lester and Tank repeat the action and, without having said a word, they walk calmly out the gym.

Hal grabs his shirt, turns to me and Manny and says, "I'll be 5 minutes late to the 1300. Begin without me." He walks off toward the showers and we turn to leave. Manny stops by Zero, who informs us that King has a concussion and will definitely be out for a day or two. King is conscious, so Manny leans down over him and says, "Concussion or not, you and I still have an appointment, so the moment you're cleared, we'll meet." We leave without a word to anyone else. The story and accompanying video immediately make the rounds of RangeMan, LLC and by the time we reach the 1500 pulse checks the questions are all about the "sparring session" in the gym. Again, we supply no answers to anyone. Not your business; concentrate on your own offices.

_He will win who has military capacity and is not interfered with by the sovereign_.

Our authority is no longer questioned. The hysteria in the calls backs off. Whatever Core is up to, it is clear that we are in authority here in Trenton and Core will back us to the hilt.

* * *

**Manny's POV**

_Fa-la-la-la-laaaa-la-la-la-la_

Yeah, this is Christmas in March for me. I'm still in charge of Apprehensions, but now I've added on the duties of …whatever Lester's title is. I'm being worked from dawn to dusk and yet….this is the happiest I've ever been at RM Trenton. And I know why.

These jobs are permanent. Core Team is going to open an office somewhere else and that's why they've stepped back. They're watching and waiting to see if we can handle our assignments and I feel quite certain that we can. The only person I was concerned about was Hal, mostly because he was doing the job as if he were afraid that Tank would walk in at any moment, question everything he did and then bounce his ass across the mats. Walking into C2 at 0700 yesterday and seeing the gift that Tank left for him eased my worries. Watching him bounce King across the mats made me feel good. Watching him do it with Lester standing by my side and Tank at his back made me feel like a fucking champ! We were being watched. Closely. We were doing the job and doing it well.

My 'gift' from Lester was an afternoon of client calls to our mid-range clients. I didn't catch the solo part until I walked into C2 on Day 6 and found a box of new business cards in my seat proclaiming me VP of Investigations and Bonds Enforcement at RangeMan Trenton. Attached was a note:

'_Mention this and the naked trip to the 'Stans is still yours. Knife __optional__. Check your calendar and have fun.'_

No need to guess who that came from but it took everything I had not to smile. I immediately frowned. If Wifey turned these jobs down, then what in the hell was her status? The situation with Wifey is one I'm not sure about. Instincts say they'll name her CO but that's so out there I don't know if I trust my own instincts, mostly because I can't come up with one rational reason why they would, but still the instincts are screaming they're sure about this. In any case, regardless of what's going on that's Ranger's woman. She is my 'play-play' wife and I will protect her with my life. She will not be injured or starve on my watch. Ram is certain he's not finding an active or latent threat against her so I told him to back his search from DEFCON 2 to DEFCON4. He's a damn good liaison and strategist in his own right and I don't need him to fall asleep standing up. I do need to pass him another bottle of Visine though, and maybe some Preparation H for the suitcases under his eyes.

I'm kinda concerned that there hasn't been any sort of outreach from Bobby to Ram. Then again, the guys don't know that there's been any outreach from Lester to me, so it's possible that Bobby and Ram are in communication and I don't know. I'm kinda doubting it though. Bobby is a pretty up front individual, much like Ram and the lack of calm in Ram's eyes is starting to bother me. On the surface Ram looks poised, confident, and relaxed. Look into his eyes for a few minutes and you can see the barely-concealed panic. I'm hoping it's just his worry over Wifey but I decide that we need a moment alone.

"Ram?"

"Yeah man?"

"I got an afternoon of client calls, so you wanna head out early and grab some lunch?"

I can see the confusion on his face. Why leave and pay for food when we have Ella…ah…he gets it.

"Where to, my good man? Please, no Shorty's. Acid reflux is killing me."

"Kebab House?" I know Ram is a sucker for Middle Eastern…snipers usually are. Middle Eastern or South American, three guesses why.

"Hell yeah! Let's go." We update Hal, who shakes his head and smiles, then leave. He can't stand Middle Eastern, but I'll make sure Ram gets him a gyro. He does love those. The trip there is quiet. I hand Ram a bottle of Visine from the infirmary.

"Yeah, I know. That bad huh?"

"Few more hours and they'd think it was special effects, possibly a Sith."

I get the finger for my opinion. We order gyros and I take a moment to really look at him. Yeah, away from the men he's free to exhibit all the panic and fear he feels. I think it's time to give him _some_ ease.

"There is no threat to Wifey. Core is doing something with her, I don't know what, but that's why they aren't panicked and that's why they aren't helping you. They've said nothing to me or Hal. I've just worked this one out on my own." He nods and relaxes somewhat. I've confirmed what he didn't want to accept, just in case he was wrong. "We have been auditioning to keep our positions. Again, they've said nothing to me, but yesterday's appearance on the mats was as good as confirming it. I don't know with certainty what they are up to, I have guesses—"

"Your guesses have been dead on. Level. What do you think?"

I'm not sure I want to level with him on this. He reads my face and gives me a half grin. "OK, better question, where do you think the new office will be?"

HAHAHAHAHAHA! I can't stop the grin on my face and I get an answering one back. OK, I'm right! "If I had to put money on it? Texas. Memphis and Detroit are close seconds, but all that money in Texas….close to the border, big towns, lots of military? Texas, mi amigo."

"I was trying to decide between Laredo or San Antonio."

"I'll put $20 on San Antonio. Lots of military there. Close to the border, but not on it like Laredo. Field offices for lots of feds."

"Suckers bet. I'm not taking it."

Our meal arrives and we take a few moments to chow down. Finally, I look at him. "Feel better?"

"Yeah man. I thought I was losing my mind. No contact directly with Bomber, Core acting all mysterious, the other offices driving me up the goddamn walls…I was about 5 minutes away from losing it completely."

"Yeah, the busted punching bag is testament to the fact that you were losing it. If it ever gets that bad again, lemme know. I'll spar with you."

Ram grins. "Better you than Hal! Shiiiiiit, I wondered for a moment if he was going to kill King! One of your boys, isn't he?"

"Yeah. I think that simply knowing that Tank wasn't going to pop up to beat his ass gave Hal his confidence back. You see he's been writing in his folder again."

With that, Ram sits back, troubled. "Yeah I saw. I'm worried too. I haven't had a chance to show any of my ideas or abilities in a Core meeting, so I don't know what my status is."

"You got a list?"

"Mental."

"Put it on paper. Hal and I just had the luck of catching them before they disappeared from sight, but we're being watched and watched very closely. Think about it. A Bible and a book show up out the blue for Hal just when Hal needed the confidence most and they walked in moments before the sparring match. I'm certain they're listening to us in C2 and I know Bobby has patched into your pulse checks because Lester has popped into mine. If you weren't doing the job, they would've replaced you by now. So put every idea you've ever had on paper and be ready when they ask. And get some sleep."

We return to Haywood and my mind, and probably Ram's too, is set at ease by the item left in his seat. Hal is grinning, waiting for Ram to pick it up. Bobby left a Jawbone Bluetooth headset and a bottle of Jose Cuervo Reserva de la Familia. Shit. $100 headset and $100 bottle of the best tequila. There's a note:

"_Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate."_

_Congratulations on the new job as VP of __Client Services. Coordinate with Manny on this._

_Bobby_

Nice.


	7. It Hurts

**A/N: Now to answer the question: Where are Ranger and Joe?** Tomorrow, a one-shot companion piece to this chapter will be posted. It's pretty important to understanding some other individuals and their motivations, but I couldn't fit it in the main story.

The story stats tell me you guys are reading but the reviews are low. Result: my muse has taken a vacation; I'm currently stuck on chapter 14. Please review! Maybe I can convince her to come home.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 7: It hurts**

**Ranger's POV**

I've been gone from my Babe for 10 long days and I'm anxious about this 1730 call. I trust Tank to hold the fort while I'm gone but I'm wondering what is so important that he needs me to call in while I'm on assignment. It has to be Babe related.

This assignment is an interesting one. It's also the assignment most likely to get me killed stateside, the assignment most likely to create lasting domestic enemies, and the assignment most likely to put me, and possibly my Babe, in permanent crosshairs if I'm not careful, which is why it's costing the feds the big bucks. The biggest. This is without a doubt the single most expensive contract I've **ever** slid toward the government. $50 million plus expenses for one year's work is expensive as hell to them which is why we've been here for 5 days "negotiating".

I'm the single hold-out on this project, the one reason the op hasn't actually started yet. I keep reminding them that they have the option to bring someone else in but I know they won't; I'm the best. I have my own sources of intel. I'm legendary here and abroad. And I've _**always**_ been worth every penny they pay me. So they keep me here in hopes they can wear me down to the usual $5-10 million but it won't happen. The shit I have to do for this one, the intel they want, the cover I'll need to maintain and the fuckers I have to work with demand every penny. **And** I'll be without my Babe for an entire year? If they keep fucking with me the price will increase to $60 million. My one consolation is that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Cop is out of the picture too.

In short, there are an unknown number of rogue federal agents working with MS-13, the violent, sociopathic street gang that originates from LA. They are completely without fear as a gang and to even be accused as a snitch is to sign a death warrant. Human smuggling, drugs, contract killings, you name it, they're involved in it and it's been damn near impossible for the feds to get any sort of handle on them because they're so insular. They started Operation Community Shield a few years ago but as quickly as they cycle members into the task force they're killed so someone on the inside is feeding them information. The fact that it's MS-13 is well known; the gang's calling card is the use of a machete. Hard to argue that someone got knocked off by the Crips or the Latin Kings when you see a bloody machete lying between the head and body of the victim. They're so known for its use that other gangs won't even attempt to replicate the machete calling card.

State and local task forces up and down the eastern seaboard keep losing members and the latest losers on the "We lost an agent!" roulette are the members of the New Jersey Street Gang Task Force, who recently found the bodies of 6 of their best agents right outside Newark's airport. It was a particularly brutal crime. The female agents. . . best not to think about it. I've never seen that kind of carnage in my life, Special Forces be damned. So that's the assignment: to locate all the dirty federal agents and get them on tape for conviction. They also want the names of any state and local agents that have been working with them and any additional targets. This is OK. They proposed getting the MS-13 leadership but I turned that part down. I have my own reasons for not wanting to get involved with that.

I've been here in DC, MS-13 territory, trying to negotiate the contract and mentally prepare for the assignment. I need to make one final trip back to Trenton to update my will, kiss my Babe (I wonder if she'll give me consent. God knows I need and want her again and I want more than a few kisses. . . I need a few hours), make sure that the family is safe and Tank is prepared for the possibility that I might not return from this one. I've already started the prep work for the op, working with Silvio to create 6 additional fake IDs just for me, complete with all necessary papers and back stories, and setup bank accounts all over the Caribbean. I also need him to create 30 additional aliases, with the same setup. The DHS is providing aliases for each of the agents but the moment is op starts I'm handing them 2 more aliases to work under. If we are trying to find rogue federal agents the last thing we use is aliases setup by the government. Double blind man's bluff and I'll be the only person who can connect all the dots.

The past 4 days have been spent with a new special order task force answering directly to the Director of Homeland Security and this little "status" meeting with the members who are involved has been boring me silly. They have little info and no idea where and how to start. I already have more information than they'll get in a month and good intel on a few of the possible rogue agents. We break for the restrooms and I'm forced to actually speak to the one member I've been ignoring the most.

"Aguilar?"

"De Luca." I'm no more polite than I have to be. An entire year with this asshole? _Jesús, ayúdame_ (Jesus, help me).

"How much longer you gonna jerk the government around? Everyone is ready to start this op but you. Why are you holding things up?"

Really? You've called me a hired gun, a contract killer, and crazy for years and you wanna know why I'm holding things up? I'm holding them up because I can. Because my life is worth a helluva lot. Because if I get killed trying to keep your ass alive, I want to make sure my Babe never has another financial problem for the rest of her life, even if her life contains your sorry ass.

I'm tempted not to answer but I'll have to work with him for a year. Why start off wrong? We already have enough issues between us and the main one is 5'7" with blue eyes and curly brown hair. "It's a contact negotiation, De Luca. I'm a businessman. The government is dragging their feet. They either accept the contract or they don't. If they don't, they can find someone else to do this." Except they can't and they won't because this situation is uniquely suited to my skills, resources, and abilities. Even he knows this.

RangeMan isn't a player in this contract negotiation, but there isn't a person involved in the negotiations who isn't aware that the reason why I'm the first, second, third, and all the way to tenth choice for this op is the fact that my company has offices in **every **single location on the eastern seaboard where MS-13 is most active except DC and Charlotte. I figure the feds can take care of their own backyard and Atlanta is close enough to Charlotte. I can get intel through my company faster and it will be more accurate than anything anyone else can get. After all the years of being sneered at for hiring ex-cons and ex-gang bangers it's now considered a blessing I have them. Idiots. I always keep an eye on the long game. Part of my requirements in this op will be that the company will not be directly connected or implicated in this in any way. That's also a sticking point. The feds want to be able to suck intel directly from RangeMan. No. No way. The last thing I want is for the company, and my name, to be associated with the feds on the street. Part of my stature comes from the fact that I'm known for following my own code, which may or may not follow the law. Plus, it's payback for all the years they wanted to double and triple check my men before allowing us to do our jobs. I hired them; that should've been enough.

1630 rolls around and the ICE agent in charge of "negotiating" with me has been blathering on and on about duty and service for 45 minutes. Fuck you. Special Forces. Mercenary. The government calls me enough to perform "patriotic" services for them and I've done my duty well, which is why they keep calling. And paying. I have 60 before I need to call Tank, so I walk to the door in the middle of his blather. It shuts him up. "Signatures on the paper. Money in the accounts. I'll return then." Everyone in there is stunned but I've made my point. My time is valuable and expensive. You've wasted enough of it.

I slide into the Mercedes and head to the hotel. I don't want to be in DC traffic when I need to concentrate on the call and although the hotel is only 25 minutes away in light traffic, DC has a hellish commute. I'm in the hotel room, bathed, relaxed and awaiting room service when 1730 hits. I turn on the signal jammer.

"RangeMan? How's it going?"

"Shitty. They're stalling me on the contract but they'll sign in the morning. I need to give you all the details and I need you to pull the XOs together for a confidential." Silence. Oh shit, what's wrong? "Report!"

"Yeah, I'm here." I hear a sigh. A sigh? OH SHIT! "She's fine. Had problems with a skip, has a fractured leg, been living on 7 for the past week. I repeat: She's fine. She's the reason I'm calling."

I'm furious **and** turned on. Babe was injured and he said absolutely nothing to me for an entire week? She was living in my apartment? Sleeping in my bed? She's where I want her? Fuck! You bastard! I would've left days ago. "Mats. 0500 the day I arrive." Knock at the door. Room Service with dinner.

"HUA! Sit. Let me fill you in."

I let room service bring my meal and tip the guy out. "Start from the beginning and don't leave out any details."

"Fine. First: Santos and Brown are here. You're on speaker." Not fond of that. "Second, listen to the entire story before you comment." OK, code for "you aren't going to like this."

And I don't. For the next 60 they tell me everything that's gone on in the past week. The problems Steph had with the skip. The fact that Tank divulged the real reasons behind some of my ops. The fact that they've been running a psy-op on my woman (Ella got her to eat a vegan meal?! Did anyone tape her reaction?). The decision they made to make the move now to San Antonio and how they plan to accomplish it. The week of allowing Ram, Manny and Hal run RangeMan Trenton. The rampant gossip surrounding Morelli's disappearance and mine. And the fact that they are leaving my Babe behind defenseless, although they've offered her the CO position.

I don't like a thing I've heard….except for the success that Manny, Hal and Ram have had running the office. I'm actually pretty proud of that. And that they think Babe should step in as CO while I'm in the wind and they're the San Antonio. I'm glad to see they have that kind of faith in her abilities, the same faith I do. And, although I don't want to admit this, having an office in San Antonio will help during this op. MS-13 is huge in Texas.

I sit back and consider what I've heard. If I know Lester he's run a great psy-op on her. I'll have to get the details tomorrow but I already know what I'm going to do. I'm driving up tonight. If I know my Babe, she'll want to talk to me, if possible, before she gives them an answer. She'll be hurt; she has been hurt. I have to remember I don't know about the panic attack, that I'm not aware that she's been crying. I have to pretend that she hasn't been curled up holding onto my pillow, a poor substitute for me. I have to walk in and do what I never do to her: I have to lie. I have to pretend I don't know anything and that I left DC without a signed contract because I need to talk to the XOs about an op that I'm not legally obligated to yet. I'm pleased that I can't be implicated in this psy-op in any way and I'm thrilled that Lester has her, by all indications, nicely boxed in. I hate that they manipulated her but the way they did it and what they did (and if I'm completely honest, why they did it). . . I might have to buy Santos an Aston Martin if it works. **If** she finally **chooses** me. Perhaps I should tell Lester about our conversation two weeks ago? Yeah, I think I will but that is an in-person conversation. I'm still not sure if I believe her. I want her to make the decision to walk away from Morelli without my having to coerce her and it looks like Lester has really stacked the deck in my favor.

The line has been silent for about 5 minutes before I hear Les. "CO?"

"Yeah."

"Do we have your support?" He shouldn't have to ask that; he's my cousin and Tank and Bobby are my brothers. We have had each other's backs for more than a decade. Even if I don't like your moves, I'll still support you. You will only do what's right and when I'm not there I have to trust that's what you're doing. All day. Every day. Especially where my Babe is concerned. If I can't trust you when my back is turned then expect to find a blade in yours.

"Yeah. You do. You know what you're doing. I don't like that you ran a psy-op on her without my knowledge and you'll pay for that shit on the mats at 1200. Tell your buddy he's got 1700. Call the XOs up. Monday 0900. I'll back this order up in person and I need to talk to them anyway. Secure a room and get ready. I'm coming in."

I pack my bags, step across the hall and knock. I'm dredging up the very last of my "decent."

"Yeah?" Morelli, De Luca for the duration of this op, is shirtless and has a pizza. Does he eat anything else? The constipation and heartburn would kill me. His phone is open so I've either interrupted his nightly call to his mother or to Terry. He thinks I think he's calling his "Cupcake." Fucker. I've had your phone tapped for two weeks. And I know what's up.

"I have to head back home. Remember to watch yourself and try not to get killed while I'm gone. Take this." I hand over the signal jammer.

"Thanks. Fuck you." How nice. He's remembering his manners. I pick up my bags and leave. This is going to be one long ride.

* * *

**Joe's POV**

I hear Mañoso moving down the hall and for the first time in a week, I feel I can relax. Knowing that I'll have to trust this nut job for the next year is unnerving me. The fact that he came in already moving around under an alias freaks me out. Everyone else had their aliases assigned. Mañoso took one look at the alias assigned to him and passed it back. "I have my own papers." I have my own papers?! Who the fuck says that?!

My mother is on the phone updating me on the neighborhood gossip. "I'm serious, Joey! The entire town thinks you're out of town, getting drunk and crying over **her!** And of course, since you swore me to secrecy, your grandmother and I can't say anything in your defense. My only consolation is the fact that her mother is working just as hard to kill the rumors but you know Edna is crazy! Running around, flapping her mouth about black wangers and hard bodies—" Oh geez….words I **never ever** wanted to hear come out my mother's mouth….black wangers….I prefer to think she's untouched. She's as close to a fucking saint as I'll ever know.

"Ma? Ma!"

"What!"

"Look, I know that it's not what you want, but just ignore it. It'll die down soon enough."

"No, it won't! It'll get worse! When it takes you more than a month to return people will start to think that thug threw you in the river!" No chance of that Ma. Mañoso wouldn't chance me being a floater. If he kills me you'll never find enough of me to bury. Please Jesus, if I have to die, can you let MS-13 get me? Then my mother can bury me, closed casket please. And perhaps ban Edna Mazur from the services. My ass, and wanger, can rest in peace.

My mother continues her angry rant for another 10 minutes before she dies down. In that time I realize that if Cupcake's living in RangeMan and Mañoso is headed back there tonight….no, I'm not going to think about that. Thinking about that will lead to thinking about **that night **and I don't need my head there tonight.

* * *

_Flashback, ~3 weeks ago_

_I roll off Steph, happy, sweaty, and finally limp. The woman is a wildcat in bed, even if she's a pain in the neck everywhere else. I pull her close and listen to her breathe. The sound is relaxing and I can feel all the stress melt away. She's almost asleep._

"_I love you, Steph." I can feel her smile against my chest. "Cupcake, will you marry me?"_

"_No."_

_Shit. Even half asleep she won't say yes. "Why not?"_

"_Because I don't love you, Joe," she mumbles. I feel the exact moment that she registers what she just said which is a miracle because I'm pretty sure I just had a heart attack and died. "I mean, I don't love you enough to get married right now…I don't want to get married right now…I'm not sure I ever want to get married again." Shut up. Just shut up. You said what you meant. Shit. If I can't get you to say you love me, if I can't even get a sleepy "love you too Joe" out of you, then what the hell are we doing?_

_She's sitting up now, sheet clutched to her chest (why do women do that? I've just been sucking there. I've seen it all) and staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. I don't remember moving, but apparently I'm now half dressed. If I could find my shoes and my…ha, there's my shirt. If I put my shirt on you can't see the massive gaping hole you just tore in my chest. I know you love me, I've heard you say it, but it's like rain in the desert: not enough and not often enough._

_I want to be married to you. I love you. I want you to fly, to live your dreams, to be happy. I just want you to be safe. You aren't safe. You don't do the job properly. You don't do it safely or as safely as you could. And even though I'm still kinda proud and embarrassed that I was your first big FTA, you haven't progressed doing the job. Hell, even capturing me was a lucky break because I was already cuffed. But I want to give you all of me and have all of you in return. And I know that won't happen. It won't happen because Mañoso exists. I don't have all your heart because he has half, even though he won't claim it. I'm well aware that I'm on borrowed time with you, waiting for you to choose, waiting for him to walk away and for you to accept it. And he's waiting for me to do the same._

_It's become a standoff, me versus him. The only difference is my clock is ticking. He has a child. He's been married and divorced. He's had and given up every fucking thing I want with you so desperately. And he's just circling around you, waiting for me to give up. And what I can't understand is __**why**__? He's never going to quit going "in the wind". You'll never tame him. Hell, Tank may even call you one day and say he won't come back and you've waited for what? What is he offering you that is so tempting it keeps you running between us? I don't see it. I don't know. I can't fight it. And I'm angry. I'm really __**really**__ angry. I'm boxing shadows. I'm a good boxer but I need something solid to hit. Tell me, please, what I'm fighting against._

_Fuck the shoes. I take one last look at you, still sitting in the bed stunned, and I'm out the door and in my Jeep. I'm headed. . . no, I'm headed to my mother's. I need my Momma tonight. I need the woman who loves me unconditionally to tell me it's OK. It will be OK. You haven't broken me; you've just bruised my heart and maybe broken my spirit a little. It's hard to keep putting myself out there with you and getting little or nothing back in return. She's surprised to see me at 1AM but one look at my face (and one less than discreet sniff of my body) and she propels me to the bathroom to wash up. I get in the shower, as hot as I can stand it, and I'm scrubbing you away. Your scent, your feel, I don't want it on me right now. Not until I determine what the hell I want to do next._

_Momma is downstairs. She's warmed up some leftover manicotti and opened the wine. You don't cook so I'm hungry. I burned off everything I ate earlier. Momma feeds me. She gives me seconds. I have two glasses of wine and she tugs me back upstairs into bed. She strokes my hair as I fall asleep. I'm too old for this but I won't stop her. She gives me what I need._

_The phone ringing wakes me. I hear Momma on the phone, it's my boss, and she's telling him that I'm at her house. That I'm not well. Angie Morelli is a force of nature, a 'Burg institution, and if she says her Joey is not well that's the end of the discussion. I don't have to go to work today. I smell the bacon and eggs, the coffee. Is that a steak sizzling? I hear the front door close and Grandma walk into the kitchen. I'm betting she went for pastries. There will be a feast for breakfast. I just have to go get it. My cell phone is vibrating. Cupcake. No. Not until I know what my next move is. Besides, what in the hell could you have to say to me right now? 'Sorry?' Fuck your sorry. You're in trouble? Call Mañoso. Hell, if you can hang on for 2 more minutes, I'm sure he's about to pull up._

_I was right. Steak, eggs, pastries, coffee. Bacon too. I eat my fill and Grandma gets up to make me more eggs. I'm finally full. I've reached the cholesterol limits for the month, if I gave a damn about that sort of thing. My mother and Grandma share a look and Grandma's out the door muttering….I know more Italian than I've ever let on. _

"_Tutto questo piangendo e piangendo per una puttana pazza ... lei discende da zingari ... nessuno di loro conosce il significato di fedeli ... La sua nonna è un folle ... e shes diventare una prostituta nella sua vecchiaia. Cristo ..., ragazzo, andare avanti. I suoi figli, i vostri figli con lei sarebbe folle!" (_All this crying and weeping over a crazy whore...she's descended from gypsies...none of them know the meaning of faithful...Her grandma is a loon...and she's become a whore in her old age...Christ, boy, move on. Her children, your children with her would be insane!_)_

_Thanks, Grandma, for the vote of confidence. Then again, she's been cursing Cupcake's womb for years. Maybe I should've paid more attention. Momma refills my coffee. She won't say anything. She waits. Years with my bastard father taught her patience and restraint. _

"_Why did you stay?"_

_She doesn't pretend to not understand the question, but she does look at me, alarmed. I shake my head; no, I did not hit her. I'm not my father. She calms down and refills her own coffee. I wait._

"_The love that exists between two people is not something that can be easily understood by others looking on, Joey. You saw an abuser, a man who hit me, hit you and your brother, ignored your sister, who drank himself into a stupor and died too young for me and not soon enough for the rest of the world. You didn't see the man who courted me, the man who wrote me letters from Vietnam, the man who asked me to continue to safeguard his heart. You didn't see the man who returned from Vietnam emotionally bruised, seen horrors he couldn't forget, dropped home and despised by his fellow citizens and forgotten by his country. You didn't see the man who fought for years to keep his demons away while putting food on the table and clothes on our backs. You saw the man who lost the fight and who used alcohol to medicate. You knew the man who existed after Vietnam, after the alcohol and the womanizing. The man who became what he had despised most: his father. __I stayed because I loved the man who asked me to love him for the rest of his life and I did. I did and still do love your father Joey. He was a good man before he lost the fight. The rest of the world didn't see that and the ones who did quickly forgot."_

_We sit in silence and sip coffee. I consider Momma's words._

"_Do you love her?"_

"_Yes." No hesitation. That I can answer easily._

"_With your whole heart?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Will you love her in 10 years if nothing between you changes?"_

_Silence. Shit. Caught. "I don't know."_

"_Then the answer, Joey, is no. You won't. The only question now is, how long are you willing to wait for her to change?"_

_With that, my mother stands to leave. I stand up and pull her close and hug her like I haven't hugged her in a long time. I think the last time I hugged her like this was right after the charges were dropped, right after Cupcake proved I was innocent. As usual, Momma has made everything clear. I've been avoiding this talk with her for this reason._

_I move to the couch and watch my mother for the rest of the day. She's doing her 'Burg housewife bit and I'm thinking. I don't have your heart. I'm sharing it with Mañoso and as long as you don't have to make a choice, you won't. You'll wait until my sperm is defective or you're in menopause and then you'll want to get married. But not because you truly love me; you'll marry me so you won't be alone. You don't want to be 'Crazy Aunt Steph' at the Kloughns' family get-togethers. Meanwhile, I'm stuck wondering if Mañoso's in your bed when I'm not. I'm sick of it. I __**could**__ accept the two of you being friends, if that's all it was. But he's not there for friendship; what he's there for I don't know, but it sure as shit isn't friendship._

_He's waiting for me to leave; I'm waiting for him to leave. Neither of us is moving. You're getting all your needs met and we look like your fucking harem, only I'm the pathetic side and he's the cool side because he gets to go "in the wind" and disappear and when he reappears everyone looks at me with pity and sadness because they know my girlfriend is in the alley with the one man none of us can arrest, pin a crime on, or even ticket. I can't even prove Abruzzi went any way other than what the coroner reported. We're all too fucking afraid of him and he's pretty much untouchable. Fuck, the streets know you as 'Mañoso's woman.' Not 'Morelli's woman.' Mañoso's. Whether he's there or not, you can cruise Stark Street in relative peace, one of the few women not in police blues or working a corner who can._

_So I can't trust you. I can't trust you with Mañoso because he has your heart or at least part of it. I certainly don't have all of it. You keep his secrets. You did not, would not and never will go after him if __**he**__ were an FTA. He trusts you with everything he has. That's clear to everyone. The person whose home is constantly broken into, whose cars are stolen or bombed, and who trips over dead bodies like children over shoelaces has a key fob to the most secure building in town. She has access to cars worth more than my annual salary and a job, part-time or full, whenever she needs money. She can have men assigned to her assistance and protection with nothing more than a vague hint of a threat to her. And I'm not as stupid as you think. I constantly have the feeling I'm being watched. I know he has men on me; I just can't find the bastards._

_And you've proven you don't trust me. The unwarranted jealousy over Terri? For Christ's sake, she's a mobster's niece! Career suicide since she's so close to him! She's a friend and occasionally an unnamed source but that's all that's ever going to be. But I need someone to talk to, someone who knows the gossip so I don't have to explain this shit, someone who understands that this is __**only**__ friendship and nothing more. Someone who won't talk. Terri is my Mañoso without the sexual tension and the secrets. She doesn't tell me any. I don't tell her mine. And she doesn't have a piece of my heart, just a place in my emotions as a good friend and in my memories as a great ex-girlfriend._

_I think what hurt me most, even though we've never really discussed it, was the Zook thing. Knowing how I felt about marriage and kids, you assumed I would just ignore a child that could possibly be mine? Fuck, did you confuse me for Mañoso? If I'd thought, for a single moment, that Zook was mine he'd be living with me and be watched by my mom. There would be child support and visitation in place. He would __**never**__ have been ignored. And you said nothing to me about it the whole damn time! You simply assumed. You took the word of someone who told you he wanted to kill me over mine without asking me a single question._

_If nothing changed between us, then I would hate you in ten years. No. Just, no. This is over. I don't need this in my life. I'm with you because of desperation, not contentment. I'm desperate to have you and love you and give you my heart and have yours in return and you're desperate to remain independent. You want to remain independent but what does that mean? You don't want marriage, you don't want kids, you don't want a steady job, what the fuck do you want? Do __**you**__ know? I know Dickie did a number but that was years ago and I feel as if I'm paying for Dickie's mistakes. You refuse to do anything that might even hint at a life beyond starving college student and I don't understand why. I have no interest in Joyce and we don't have to buy a dining room table if that's what you're afraid of._

_I stay with my mother for two days, calling in sick. I'm fed and cosseted and put back together. Neither my mother nor my grandmother says anything else about Cupcake again, for which I'm grateful. When I finally leave I'm whole again. It's over. I won't go back. I'll only go back to her if she tells me I have her whole heart, the way two people in love should be, and that Mañoso is firmly in the "friend" category and nothing more. I'll only go back if she proposes to me this time so I know she's chosen me and is not settling for me. I'll only go back if she's ready to talk about kids because I want them and I need to know when, not if, we'll ever have some. That's all I want, her heart, her loyalty, a life with her and children. I won't settle for less. I won't wait around to see if she offers Mañoso first right of refusal._

_I return to the scene of the massacre and look up at her window. She's home. Good. I see the black SUV in the parking lot. Two inside. A watch is on. No other cars, no Porsches, in the lot. Excellent. Let's make this quick._

_I knock on the door and it opens. Her eyes are bloodshot and she has tear tracks down her cheeks. "Joe, I…I…" Yeah, what can you say?_

"_Got a moment?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Good. I'll make this quick." I walk in, sit on the couch. The place is spotless, which means she cleaned to avoid thinking. Never met a thought you couldn't avoid, huh Cupcake? She closes the door and joins me on the couch, looking at her fingers. Ah, there are my shoes. "I went to my mother's. I needed time to think." She looks up, opens her mouth to say something. "No, just listen. I don't need you to respond. My mother asked me, 'If nothing changed between us, would I still love you 10 years from now?' and you know, Steph, the answer was no." She goes pale. "I've been clear about what I want. Marriage, kids, commitment. I accept your job and that you love it but I want you to get better at it. Armed, competent, I don't think that's too much to ask. I could even accept Mañoso, if it were very clear to him and the rest of the world that he was only a friend and the alley visits stopped."_

_Now she looks ready to pass out. Damn, did you really think I didn't know? Everyone in fucking town knows, Steph!_

_"So here's where I am. I'm out. I love you and will probably love you until the day I die, but it isn't enough. I feel I'm marking time waiting for you to decide that you're ready, so I'm giving __**you**__ the decisions here. There will be an __**us**__ when __**you**__ propose to __**me**__, but when you do, I expect a discussion about when, not if, we will have children. That's what I want. Your heart, your loyalty, marriage, and children. In the meantime, while you're making up your mind, I will see other people. You can consider this an off-phase and take the time to decide what you want in life. Call it an ultimatum if you want, but I won't settle for anything less than what I've just asked for." With that, I stand up to leave. "Any questions?"_

_She looks stunned and breathless and she's crying again. If I hold her I'll stay the night and I'm not ready for that yet. I grab my shoes, walk to the door, turn around and say "See you later, Cupcake" and walk out. I stand outside the door for a moment and I can hear her sobs. I walk out the building and over to the black SUV._

"_Morelli." Tank. Good. All the benefits of speaking to Mañoso without the temptation of wanting to deck him._

"_Tell your boss to come comfort her. By the way, I know you have men on me. I can feel the watch. You can call them off."_

_I leave. It's over._

_The next day, I get the call I've been expecting. Because I know that Cupcake is both a people pleaser and a coward, I decide to handle this for her._

"_Joseph? Helen Plum here. I'm calling to invite you to dinner tonight, 6PM. We're having stuffed cabbages."_

_Well, I'm dodging a bullet there. Cabbage gives me horrendous gas. I've farted "Camptown Races" after cabbage. "Mrs. Plum, perhaps you should sit down." I wait a moment and I hear the chair scrape across the floor. "Mrs. Plum, Stephanie and I are no longer together."_

"_What?! Why?! Joseph, dear—"_

"_Mrs. Plum, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I want you to understand something. I love your daughter. I love her deeply and I always will. But she isn't ready to have a serious relationship and I'm tired of begging her for one. Stephanie and I have had a discussion about our relationship and where we are and she knows what the next steps are. I'm asking you, as her mother who I know loves her very much, don't push her on this. Leave her alone to make her own decision. Don't keep pushing and nagging and begging her to marry me. I want her to marry me because she loves me as much as I love her, not because she wants you to stop nagging her and criticizing her life every time you see her. So, can you do that for me? Can you leave her alone about our relationship and let __**us**__ handle it?"_

_There's silence on the other end of the phone. This makes two days in a row that I've silenced Plum women._

"_Thank you very much for the invitation to dinner, Mrs. Plum. Hopefully, I'll see you again sometime soon." Well, that's over. The upside in all this: I don't have to worry about Edna Mazur pinching my ass anymore._

* * *

"Joey?"

"Yes Ma?"

"Take care of yourself. Is it possible for you to make a stop here anytime soon?" You want to kill the rumors I'm off crying somewhere. Sure, no problem. Hell, I'll up the ante. I wonder if Nancy is free. I'll call her tonight.

"You know what I'll come home this weekend. We'll go to dinner, Rossini's OK? I know nothing is as good as your food but you deserve a night out. And I'll bring a friend, OK, is that OK? Me, you, Grandma, and a friend." I can feel her delight through the phone. It takes so little to make my mother happy. I should do this more often.

"Wonderful! I'll call Rossini's and make a reservation. I'll see you this weekend, Joey and be safe, OK?" We disconnect, I finish my pizza and call Nancy. Yes, she's free Saturday night, so I invite her to dinner. She's happy to meet my mom, looking forward to it. Wonderful. That handled, I turn in for the night.

* * *

**A/N: The Side Story mentioned above is I Ran Over a Rabbit. It's from Helen Plum's POV it it makes for surprising reading.**


	8. God Hates Me

**A/N: Another one-shot companion to this chapter will be posted tomorrow. It's not as integral to the story but it's fun reading. Warning: it's from Joe's POV. Anyway, Friday: _The Decision!_**

**OK, the story stats tell me you guys are out there and reading. Feedback? Reviews?**

* * *

**Chapter 8: God Hates Me**

**Joe's POV**

I wasn't sure what to think when I got a call from the Chief, not the Chief of D's, but the Chief Chief with a request for me to double-time it to his offices right then. I left the scene of my latest case (multiple drug dealers dead, possible gang activity) and went right to the top floor of the station. Inside the Chief was sitting with an older man, quietly discussing the machete death of 6 Gang Agents in Newark. I went pale right inside the door. I knew 5 of them. I walk in and shut the door behind me.

"Chief, Sir" I take a seat. I wish I didn't look so scruffy right now.

"Major O'Neill, this is Detective Joseph Morelli of Vice and Major Crimes. One of our best." Thanks Chief. How about showing me your thanks with an increase in my pay?

"Detective Morelli, it's a pleasure you meet you. Chief here has been telling me great things about your background and service."

"Thank you, Major. I simply try to do my job well." Please don't ask me to be on your task force. Please please please. I don't want to be anywhere near MS-13. I have enough gang problems right here in Trenton.

"Morelli, I'm sure you've heard about what happened in Newark." I nod. Please please please. "Truth is, we are running out of cops with skills like yours, excellent at undercover, contacts with the feds, gang and major crimes experience. Chief says that you are going to be an excellent addition to a new, special task force. This one will be smaller and will report directly to the Director of Homeland Security, none others." Whoa! Major face time in front of the feds. . . I might be willing to join your task force. "The task force will be based out of Virginia, but you will continue to live and work right here in New Jersey. The details will be given to you tomorrow in Fairfax." He smiled. "I'm sure you noticed that I'm not giving you an option here," I nod, yeah I noticed, "but the truth is I can't use anyone out of my current task force, for reasons you will understand when you arrive in Fairfax. For coordination's sake, you will simply appear to be on loan from Trenton PD for a long-term undercover assignment to an unnamed state agency. The only people in the entire state of New Jersey who will know are sitting in this room right now. Clear?"

"Yes sir."

"And don't worry Morelli," Chief says. "You're still our officer. You will still continue to be paid and your cases will be farmed out to other detectives. I think you get extra for this work, so I'll arrange to have it added to your pay quietly without breaking confidentiality. I'll tell the Chief of D's that you're on a long-term assignment that I cannot speak to him about so he doesn't blow your cover."

I'm eager to serve on this task force now. Whatever this is, it's the kind of major case that can make or break a man's career. If I distinguish myself during this case I can write my own ticket anywhere. This is the kind of case that turns men into Lieutenants or even Majors within local and state police units. Hell, I could become a Special Agent in Charge at the FBI off this kind of case. Yeah, now I'm looking forward to serving on this task force. Please, don't let it involve MS-13.

He passes me a sealed envelope with the words "New Jersey Liaison" on the front. "Update your will, make your arrangements and good luck."

"I'm reporting to Fairfax, not Newark, correct?"

"Correct. As a matter of fact, from here on, Chief and I have absolutely no knowledge of anything that you're doing and we don't even know that you've been assigned to this task force. That's how closed mouth this special task force is."

* * *

It really is. I walked in the next day and had to pass through three levels of screening. Biometrics, eye scans, blood work, complete physical, they even chipped me in two places like a fucking dog. At no point did they refer to me by name; I was simply called 'Jersey'. I saw others during the day who looked as gobsmacked as me, so I guess they're on this case too. It was absolutely amazing and took an entire day to complete. Afterwards, we were transported to a nearby Hampton Inn, to relax, unwind, and hopefully sleep. We were advised not to speak to each other or anyone else and the next day we met in a small, discreet office building, where we were handed a packet containing our information. New IDs, passports, resumes, credit cards and reports, work histories, you name it the packet had it. Apparently I was now Anthony Joseph De Luca from Brooklyn, NY. Whew. Names I could easily remember and respond to and an area I know decently well. I read the sheets very carefully to understand who I was and what I was supposed to do.

Simply put, New Jersey was the latest victim of the MS-13 gang's reign of terror. More frightening, the feds were certain that they had a mole, or possibly moles, in their agency but they couldn't pick them out. Our job was to integrate into a different State's Task Force, determine if there was a mole there and who and report back to one man, another consultant hand-picked for this case. Hopefully, we could get all the dirty feds taken down before they realized there was a operation underway to catch them. Once we identified a possible suspect, the consultant would begin running surveillance and execute the take down. There were fifteen of us and we would move in pairs from state to state. Thank god; I didn't have to be face to face with gang bangers but. . .now I was setting up federal agents for a take down. Jesus Christ! I can't tell if this is the frying pan or the fire.

I was assigned to start in Florida, Miami to be precise. I grinned; Miami in March is every Jersey boys' dream. Nice work if you can get it but my letter advised me to learn Spanish **fast**; Miami is a completely bilingual town. The op would start in 2 months; in the meantime, we would move to the area, get familiar with the "vibe" so we looked and sounded like natives, and learn the language, if necessary. I pulled out my laptop and the cover was immediately slammed shut. I looked up at the task force coordinator. "Sorry. No unauthorized electronics. We're about to issue you electronics for this." 10 minutes later, I'm looking at a brand new laptop, a satellite phone, and an iPhone. I boot the laptop up and surf to Amazon, where I order the Level 1 Spanish program from Rosetta Stone. The coordinator behind me chuckles and whispers I should cancel the order. The software is already on the laptop.

I wouldn't mind working ops like this more often.

Finally, the coordinator stands up and asks us to introduce ourselves, under our aliases. From this moment on, I am Anthony Joseph De Luca. There are number of very pretty women on this op and I feel no regrets at smiling charmingly at them. I'm single. I can look. Hell, I can even touch. I love Cupcake but there's no telling how long it will take for her to come to a decision. I have no intentions of actually cheating on her but I am going to leave my heart open for someone else. I refuse to consider that I might wait all my life only to lose to Mañoso in the end; if I find someone I love and who loves me back, before Cupcake comes to her senses, then we weren't meant to be, regardless of how hard and how long I tried, and I'll let her know that she doesn't need to propose.

The coordinator, Trent, starts talking about how we will be structured. Since it cannot appear that we are moles for each state's organization, they've contracted with an outside agency, manned by one of the military's best, to handle coordination, logistics, and take down. We will appear to be working as special consultants from a company he has set up in case someone starts trying to break into our backgrounds. We'll pass all intel back to him and he will be directing us. He is the **only **person we are authorized to say anything to. We are to trust him with our lives, hold nothing back from him, answer all his questions, and follow his orders. His contract is still in negotiation but they know he will be signing on. Trent grins. "The man is a fucking legend. The best. Absolute miracle we could get him. He's taken down drug cartels, gun runners, terrorists, you name it, he's done it. You can trust him to keep you alive."

And for some reason, I know. I just fucking know. It's in the hero worship in Trent's eyes, the slightly glazed expression, the fact that he looks like he wants to go on, but he just can't. Words would not begin to describe the man, as far as he's concerned. He looks like Cupcake.

And then he walks through the motherfucking door. Hand tailored Armani suit, mirror shades, custom shoulder harnesses. Breitling watch. I can't see the shoes. Mental calculation: at least $25,000. Contract killing pays very well.

"Trent."

"Sir!" **Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! **You mean my goddamn life, for the next year, is in the slightly deranged hands of Ricardo Carlos Mañoso? What did I do, God? Why do you hate me?! Trent passes him a packet. Mañoso opens it, reviews it, and says, "I have my own papers." He turns to us, nods, and says, "Juan Ernesto Aguilar." He spots me and I see his mouth twitch. Great. My presence here is amusing to him. Well, at least I know that if this fucker is undercover with me for the next year, he isn't back in Trenton fucking my Cupcake. That's one worry down; I might still have a shot. He takes a seat in the back and motions for Trent to continue.

Trent can barely keep himself together now and the change in demeanor is affecting the entire room. The women whose eyes I caught earlier are now staring at Mañoso like he's a fucking steak. The men are staring just as hard, as if they are trying to determine what makes the fucker so special. And I'm miserable just thinking that for the next year, this maniac will decide if I live or die.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

_Dios me odia! _(God hates me!) Are you serious? Please God, tell me you are kidding me? Morelli's on this op? I have to keep him alive? Jesus Christ on a cracker (Note to self: No more Mad Men)!

This part of the operation, helping them pick their agents and getting them ready, is costing the government $250,000 plus expenses. It's only 8 days, which I think is reasonable. I sent the names to Silvio and tell him to "Plum Search" each one, hoping that the familiar name wasn't who I thought it was. I'm watching the body language in the room, determining who should probably be tossed from this op and who can stay. And although the temptation is great (damn near overwhelming) to toss Morelli off this op, I won't. First, I've always acknowledged that he's a good cop, a good detective. It's not fair to him or his career to bounce him for nothing more than personal dislike. Second, he's a good undercover cop. I've watched his career closely, occasionally giving it a boost very quietly (and if that boost just happened to involve a long-term undercover assignment to give me some quality poaching time, what can I say?) and trying to ensure he stayed clean and sober. If my Babe ever chose him over me, I didn't want him to lack funds or turn into his father. Then I'd have to kill him. Third, the first part of his op is in Florida; was supposed to be New Jersey, but I prefer putting some distance between him and Babe. If they really are off (she says yes; I'm still not completely sure) then I want to encourage that.

The other 14 agents in the room run the gamut from overweight and sweaty to ridiculously oversexed and horny. One female agent catches my eye, licks her lips, and stares at me. I'm slightly impressed that she held it for so long, but the moment I let my expression run cold, her eyes drop to the floor. _Good. I won't be fucking you so don't get any ideas._ Trent's a damn puppy now, overeager and anxious to please. I'm glad he talked me up to these agents; they know I hold their lives in my hands but the hero worship on Trent's face will make it easier for them to accept it.

The morning passes by with discussion of MS-13, its history and spread. We break for lunch and then talk about their tactics and look at crime scene photos. I requested this; intel says that some of them are good detectives but have never worked a lot of undercover or extended undercover. This kind of undercover case requires a special kind of fortitude and I need know they have it. I want to see who can hold their lunch and school their face. Two agents immediately break; there's no crying in undercover! I'll toss them. The rest look green and uncomfortable. Thankfully Morelli's seen so many of these scenes that, although he's disgusted, he looks the most normal, the most nonchalant. Yeah, I'll keep him on. We wrap the day up and everyone starts packing up to file out. I catch Morelli's eye. Good, he recognizes we need to talk too.

"Trent, I have De Luca. You can leave."

Trent looks as if he might want to disobey, but my reputation precedes me. The other 14 agents and Trent leave. I stop to see Jones and advise that the two agents who cried are to be bounced. They don't have the stomach for this. I find Morelli outside in a corridor and motion for him to follow me to my car. We slide in and I disable the vehicle audio monitoring and call it in to RM Trenton. Morelli hasn't spoken. _Good, he knows better than to assume that just because he's in a car, he's not being monitored._ Now, how candid do I want to be with him? I don't really hate him, I just don't like him. As long as Babe is between us, we'll never be friends. Ah well, let's be somewhat candid. It'll throw him off for days and if I'm lucky it might fuck up his entire week.

"Before I walked into the room, you looked interested, excited even, to be on this op. I won't toss you. It's not fair to you or your career to toss you from something that you're excited about that can really help your career just because you and I love the same woman."

He looks stunned to hear me say that. He turns red, nods, then turns his eyes back toward the road.

"I did request that you start in Miami though." Now he looks pissed. "Simple reason: you've got two months to learn Spanish. Miami is a bilingual town, so being exposed to it constantly will help get you there faster. Plus, I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. I'll allow you some access to RangeMan Miami, for the gym and range time, and to allow you to practice your Spanish with my guys. At the end of two months, you'll be able to follow about 70-75% of the conversations you hear."

"OK, cut the bullshit. At RangeMan Trenton you have two men accompany me all the time everywhere on your fucking premises. Now you're offering me the use of your company? Excuse me if I smell shit from you."

"At RangeMan Trenton you either have a personal reason to be there, namely Steph, or a professional reason to be there, your cop duties. Neither is a reason to allow you to walk around unsupervised in my building and you won't be walking around unsupervised in Miami. However for the next year, I'm in charge of your fucking life. Like I said, I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. If you don't return, the cops will immediately assume I had you killed, regardless of the fact they don't even know that you and I will be working together. It's just the assumption that will be made. Second, if you die and I could've prevented it, Steph will never forgive me. So, we are both completely fucked for the next year. We have to learn to trust each other. You have to trust that I'll keep you alive. I have to trust that you'll remain professional and do your fucking job, regardless of the fact that you think I'm a crazy, deranged mercenary who isn't quite tied tight. _Hai capito, il mio amico?_ (You got that, my friend?)

Stony silence. Internally I'm smiling. It's nice to remind someone that their life is completely in your hands, especially when they don't like you. Even better when you can do it in their language. "_Si, mi amigo._"

"_Bueno!_ Two more months and I'll have to curse you in French."

* * *

**Joe's POV**

On the outside, I look calm and collected. On the inside, I'm seething. First, I know he enjoyed reminding me that my life, my fucking life, is in his hands. Second, I'm angry all over again. It was easier to understand why Steph wouldn't commit when I just thought he was in it for the sex and she wasn't sure if she wanted to ride that ride before committing to me; knowing that he loves her hurts even more. No wonder she won't commit; she has the best of all worlds. I'm steady and dependable, the sure thing. He's alluring and exciting, the long shot. And as every shitty chick flick has taught us, women want the long shot.

I hate him.

"Question." I get a glance out the corner of his eye. We're almost back to the hotel. "Are we going to be allowed to call anyone while on this op?" Silence.

"It looks suspicious for you to never call anyone. Do me a favor: don't call Steph."

"My mother is always my contact."

He cringes. "I try to keep family out my dealings but if that's your normal contact, keep it up. People suspect a man less when he is in constant contact with his mother, especially if she's the scolding kind."

My mother isn't but when she's passing neighborhood gossip it seems like it. Quite frankly, she's excellent cover. We reach the hotel, where Trent looks slightly worried, then relaxed to see us. Mañoso's nose wrinkles. "Room?"

"405. We don't get the Hilton, sorry."

"Hampton is a Hilton hotel. You got a crappy one."

We enter room 405 and before I can say a word, Mañoso gestures for me to stay silent, then begins talking about last night's Ranger's game. He glances around the room calmly then takes a small box out of his pocket and activates it. Oh, for Christ's sake! Is he really checking the room for bugs? This is absolutely ridiculous . . . except that the box shows the room is bugged. My fucking room is bugged. I can't believe this shit. I've only been here two days. Why on earth would they think that I'm . . .

Except that it makes absolute sense. We're trying to root out possible rogue federal agents. I have to step my game up. Mañoso says nothing. He's made the point. We're still talking bullshit over last night's game while searching for the location of the bugs, all without missing a beat in the conversation. I'm surprised he knows this much about Rangers' hockey and I say so.

"Babe." Answer and explanation all at once.

God hates me.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

It's been two weeks since the end of my relationship with Joe and contrary to all expectations it didn't end in a screaming match at the scene of an 'Incident'. There were no exploding cars or dead bodies. There was just quiet. Lots of quiet.

The day he finally came back over I was ready. I knew what I needed to say to him, the apologies I needed to make. I do love him but I'm just not ready to be married. Maybe I need to say the words more but my family expresses emotions with pats and cake not words. Words and hugs make us antsy. But I didn't want to lose Joe; I didn't want him to walk around thinking I didn't love him. It's just. . . I'm not ready. . . his love comes with conditions, expectations. His love means having to give up what matters to me. . . I mean, give up some of the people who matter to me. Like Ranger. Like the Merry Men. Joe means having to let the independent part of my life go.

He wouldn't let me say a word. He laid out for me what he needed in order for there to be an "us". It's my decision. He can accept Ranger, minus the alley. He can accept my job, as long as I learn to do it "competently." He's willing to give me the things I thought I would have to give up in order to be in a relationship with him and now I'm more miserable. Because I see now that Joe really loves me and will make whatever compromises are necessary for there to be an "us" and I'm too scared to give him what he needs. I'm not ready to marry again but I love him and for him, it's over until I'm ready to make a permanent commitment. I don't want a permanent commitment. I like this loose thing we have going. I can't remember to keep Rex fed and he wants me to be a wife? I don't know how to be a wife and previous experience tells me I suck at it. Otherwise Dickie would not have screwed Joyce on my dining room table. Children frighten me. I love my nieces but I couldn't put up with Mary Alice neighing all day or Angie sighing and rolling her eyes all the time. Eddie's kids and Mary Lou's aren't much better. Babies are the worst. I mean they're cute and they smell good but they're high maintenance. They need things, time, attention, food; I can't keep Rex fed and I'm a semi-decent hamster Mommy. But Joe wants kids and he expects the "us" to contain kids. Mommy and Daddy and 2.5 children and Bob eating through everything and I can't pretend that I didn't know this. I've known for 4 years that he expects this.

It was an ultimatum. He didn't try to hide the fact that it was, told me I could consider us off until I made a decision and was up-front about the fact that he was going to date other people. And he started off with a bang, the ICU nurse from St. Francis. Evidently she'd slipped him her phone number during one of my many admittances. Three nights after speaking to me, they were at Rossini's having an intimate dinner. We never went to Rossini's for an intimate dinner but my phone line blew up with everyone in the 'Burg calling to tell me. They've gone out twice more since and each time half the 'Burg calls to tell me.

"Damn, White Girl! SuperCop was spotted at Pino's at lunch the other day with the chick from the hospital. What's up with the two of you? I thought y'all was all nice and cozy." Lula has been my best source for what's going on and the Trenton commentary.

I didn't want to hear it and for the first four days after I didn't have to. Within 15 minutes of Joe's leaving, Ranger walked in. I had not moved from the couch yet. He took one look at me, called Tank with "I'm offline," picked me up and carried me out to the Turbo. I was belted in and on my way. . . somewhere. . . before I could really register what happened. Next thing I know, I'm installed in Point Pleasant and crying my eyes out while Ranger held me and rubbed my back.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

And we didn't. I didn't explain, he didn't ask. He simply kept me supplied with ice cream and allowed me to walk on the beach while he worked. I slept late every day and went to sleep wrapped around him, clutching him like a security blanket. The third night, I slipped on top of him, pulled off his black shirt, and waited.

"I'm not his substitute."

"Whose?"

Ranger stared at me as if trying to determine if this was really consent or substitution. Whatever he was looking for he must have found. By the morning, I couldn't remember my own name but I felt a hell of a lot better.

At first I was angry, really really angry. How dare Joe walk into my apartment and give me an ultimatum? It was unfair! He didn't even allow me to say anything, to apologize and tell him I did love him and I loved our relationship. He got to say what he wanted to and just left. He basically told me that he wouldn't love me in 10 years if I remained the person that I am which really wasn't fair. You either love the person that you're with or you don't; you don't demand they change. I'm well aware that most people who know me, who know anything about my life, think I need to change, that I need to grow up but I can't understand why I should. What the hell is so great about their lives that I should want to be the same, miserable and bored with kids and a husband who drive me crazy? Why should I want that life? I'm doing fine, most of the time. I make the decisions in my life; I call the shots. I'm determined not to be my grandmother, waiting until I'm old to live the life I always wanted to. I'm going to live the life I want now, until I can't anymore. If that means that someday I look back and wish that I had married Joe, or Ranger, earlier then that's a regret I'll have.

In the midst of all that I realized that what Joe really said to me was that he loved himself more than me and that if I wasn't going to ever want the life he wanted to just tell him now and end it. It hurt, because I realized that I was wrong and he was right, not that I would ever tell him. He had been upfront with me from the beginning, clear about what he wanted and he'd been waiting around all this time for me to be ready for the same thing. I loved him but we were in a relationship because I wanted commitment but not permanence. I wanted something more than casual sex but less than marriage. Ranger required a condom; Joe required a ring; I wanted commitment…and the condom. Each man was giving me something that scared me and I wasn't ready to make any decisions. Then I realized something much worse. I was Ranger's Joe, waiting to see if I could get a commitment out of someone who gave me mixed signals. And if I made Joe feel half as confused, lonely, excited, horny, afraid, and angry as Ranger made me, then I owed him an apology for the past four years. No wonder he called it quits.

Our return to Trenton was quiet. When we finally reached my apartment, Ranger turned off the car and moved to exit but I stopped him.

"Joe and I are over."

Silence. "Babe."

"No, I mean it. It will only happen again if I propose to him. His words."

Silence. His hand covers mine.

"I've been ducking his proposals, his commitment for years because my mind wouldn't accept what my heart already knew." Now I'm looking at my hands, at the gorgeous mocha-latte fingers laced with mine. I can't say this to his face, but perhaps….perhaps I can say it to his fingers. "I couldn't accept his commitment because I couldn't give him my heart when someone else has part of it." The fingers tighten. I'm not looking at his face. "I'm not asking you for a commitment Ranger. You've been clear about where you stand there. I'm telling you that I'm your Joe. You have my commitment. I just don't know if I can hang on as long as Joe did." I pause. "And when I get out of this car, I'm never speaking of this ever again."

I move to open the door only to hear the locks slam into place.

"Babe." I can't move. "Babe, look at me." I'm not moving. Finally, he places his hand on my chin and turns my face to him. I'm not opening my eyes. I feel him blow air on them and, startled, I open my eyes to see him smiling at me. "Stubborn."

"Not funny, Ranger."

"No it's not. This is serious." He stops smiling and looks at me closely. "Babe, I'm not Joe. I'll never be the white picket fence guy. Betting on me is bad business. I'm here today, gone tomorrow, sometimes with no advance word, no information. Is that really how you want to live your life, always wondering where I am, if I'm safe, if I'm alive? I don't work for the government officially, so if I die in some hell hole you may never know where I am. You may never get any piece of me back. Marriage and children with me are a remote possibility, extremely remote. Is this the life you want to live?"

"Ranger, it's the life I'm already living. What would be the difference?"

Ranger tilts his head back against the headrest and for a few long minutes he says nothing.

"The op I'm headed to discuss in DC will be one year." Oh my god, he's giving me info in advance? "It will be the most expensive op I ever charge the government and it will be the deadliest. Worse, it's domestic so it's the most likely to leave me with enemies I'll have to remove later. One year, Steph." He looks at me and I can tell he's made a decision. "If you still feel this way in one year, we'll talk about it. But I need you to accept that my life involves danger. It involves constant monitoring and intel on enemies. It requires that I display few weaknesses. The weaknesses that I have are limited and the only real known weakness is you. Just you. I've made Julie harder to find and my parents and siblings are well-protected, but you are the wild card." He looks at me hard. "I've already removed threats to you. Permanently. A life with me means accepting that you will have to acknowledge that kind of information. Safe houses, panic buttons, a loaded gun, all the things you run from now will be a part of your life with me. And that habit you have of running from arguments, that won't fly with me. Not acceptable. It would have to end."

We're talking terms. This is new. I nod, start thinking about what mine will be. Is this what I want? I don't even know. I just know that for the first time, Ranger is willing to give me a glimmer of hope.

"One year Babe. Then we'll discuss this." He pulls me to him and kisses me hard. I don't want to let go.

"When do you have to report?"

"0900."

"Stay with me."

When I wake up the next morning, he's gone.

* * *

**A/N: The Side Story mentioned above is Goodbye for Now. It ****is available from my profile.**


	9. We Need to Talk

**A/N:**** Am I forgiven for the last two chapters? :) You had to know the back story before I brought you here. Now you know the status of everyone around Steph. Joe and Steph are off, Joe and Ranger in the wind together and BLT are moving to Texas. **

**Get Comfy! This is another super long chapter but it's decision time! Of course, since it's Steph, it won't be easy. . .or quick. . .**

**Chapter 9: We Need to Talk**

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

Three hours later, I'm double-timing it up the stairs to my apartment. It's just after 2200, so Babe shouldn't be too asleep right now but if she is at least she's in my bed and I can hold her. I walk into the apartment quietly and set down my keys. The suitcase is left outside the door, a silent signal to Ella that I'm here and I need clean clothes. I grab a bottle of water and walk to the bedroom.

_Dios_, this is what I want. Steph is laying across my bed, in my apartment, in my building, clutching my pillow. There are tear tracks down her beautiful face and she looks miserable. I watch as her nostrils flare and she lifts her head a little. Does she. . .yes, her hand moves to the back of her neck. I've been here for less than two minutes, but she's already registered my presence.

"Ranger?" Her voice is scratchy with tears. _Dios_, Babe, I'm here. I'm here. I move to the bed and kiss her gently. Her eyes open and I'm lost in an ocean of blue. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok. Let me take a shower first. Hungry?"

"No, but Ella left something for you in the fridge. I'll heat it."

"No you won't. The guys told me you fractured your leg. I'll heat my dinner. You stay where you are."

It's a relatively long shower for me, mostly because I need to relieve some pressure. I've been aroused ever since Tank told me she was in my bed. Tension gone, I retrieve and heat Ella's meal. Beef tips with gravy, couscous and broccoli. Ella knows I don't eat a lot of red meat or gravy but I'm too tired to argue. I take the meal into the bedroom, where the very sight of it makes Steph smile broadly.

"What's wrong Ranger?"

"I'm trying to figure out why Ella would leave me this meal. She **knows** I don't eat a lot of red meat and I'm not a gravy person. Especially not when I'm coming in late at night." I'm too hungry to fight, so I try it and, finding no problems, enjoy myself. The beef is extremely tender and I wonder if Ella has been playing with Kobe beef again.

My entire dinner gives Steph the giggles. The more I eat of it, the more she giggles until finally she lies back, red faced with tears running down her cheeks. Her response makes me wonder, for the first time in my life, if Ella is trying to poison me. Finally, she looks over at me and asks, "Well, how was it?"

"Not bad. Not a red meat and gravy man but that was pretty good."

"Glad you enjoyed it. It was entirely vegan, ya know, bark and twigs." Ah….the source of Steph's giggles. The guys told me Ella fed her a vegan meal, but they didn't disclose what the meal was. Not bad. I was completely fooled.

"Would you eat this? You should try it. It wasn't bad."

Steph spends the next 10 minutes explaining how Ella fed that meal to everyone and none of them knew. Then she drops a bombshell on me.

"I have to admit, I think what the guys have been up to is funny. They've had Ella cramming low-fat, low-sodium, low-calorie meals at me under the guise of "taste testing" for the men, as if there's a single man in this entire office who wouldn't eat what Ella cooked, regardless of what was in it or how it was prepared. I didn't get it until she served that vegan meal but then I started actually looking at what she was serving me and getting suspicious. The dead giveaway was the baked doughnuts. I can tell the difference in baked, fried, yeast, cake, filled, glazed, cruller, you name it, I can differentiate. Geez, I worked in a bakery in high school. Dessert is the base of my food pyramid. I can't be fooled by baked goods."

I wonder if Lester knows that part of his psy-op has been uncovered. This is why my Babe should **never** be underestimated. I flash her a grin and watch as she goes soft and dreamy. Too much smile and she'll get self-conscious and start checking for drool, so I return the plate to the kitchen, lie down on the bed and pull her into my arms.

"So Batman, they tell you what they've been up to this week? They're causing widespread panic and throwing jobs I'm not qualified for at me." Interesting way to describe it.

"Babe." I'm getting an irritated look. "They'd never toss you a job you weren't qualified to do."

Steph stares in my face, searching for the truth. I must have passed because she rolls into my arms, settling her face in my chest and sighs. "They want me to be CO of RangeMan Trenton."

"No dice Babe." She looks at me, surprised. "In RangeMan, there is only one CO. CO of RangeMan LLC." She goes white and I hug her closely and wait. Here it comes. I can feel it.

"**ABSOLUTLEY NO WAY! **That's your job! I am in no way qualified to handle the job. I can't be you, Ranger! There's me and there's you and there's no way I'll ever be you! The company would be bankrupt in days, maybe hours—" She breaks away from me and I watch as a full head of rhino steam makes its way impressively up her body and the hands are going in circles. How did Morelli not find this hilarious? Oh, right. Italian. I sit up and lean against the headboard. This is going to be fun.

"Babe?" No response. "Babe!" She looks at me, still fuming. I have to tread carefully and I wonder exactly how Les planned to sell her on the job. This will take every bit of cunning and emotional manipulation I can manage. I guess I've joined the psy-op now. Damn. Lots of talking. "Stephanie." Ah, there we go. Full attention. "Listen to me, Babe. RangeMan LLC is not a charity. We are the best of the best, the first people to respond and the last to leave. My men know that I make the moves that are best for the company. We have no shareholders outside the core team, no one to tell us what to do, no way we can be leveraged, nothing to hold against us. My brothers, Lester, Tank, and Bobby, love you as much as I do and trust your judgment so much that they are asking you to step in and run the entire show for them while they. . . you know, I do need to find out what the fuck they are up to, but regardless Babe, the **entire** Core Team believes that you have what is takes to run a multi-million dollar company." She's looking at me with a look of extreme disbelief. Shit. More talking. "Babe, I'm not known, none of us are known, for being a soft touch, for allowing pity or compassion to rule business dealings—"

"Bullshit, Carlos!" Is it wrong of me to immediately get horny at the sound of my name on her lips, even as she's cursing me? "I'm the ultimate pity business decision. I have a job here doing searches that you have an entire department to do. And as for allowing pity or compassion to rule your business dealings, I've had a chance to look at your business. I see the level of activity here. And I recognize that every time I screw up, every time I get in over my head and every time you have to come rescue me, **that** is costing thousands of dollars. No, it's costing tens, possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars! That is a pity business decision and you can't deny it!"

"No it's not. It's the best fucking business decision I can make." I cut off whatever she's about to say with "Babe, when something happens to you, my men can't concentrate on their jobs. They want to be involved, to help in whatever way they can. Until you are safe and sound and they know it, nothing at RangeMan Trenton is going to get done anyway. When you're in trouble, they're all running to a truck, trying to be the first to respond. It's just easier for me to acknowledge that and allow them to help, to coordinate their natural need to protect you into actions that will save you. We figure out how to put the branch back to rights once you're safe and sound but I want you to consider this: every time you come to work here, every man, all 40-plus of them, comes to see you at your cubicle at some part of their day. Some stop and speak; others just stand there and look at you. The knowledge that you are on the floor propels them to your desk, to check on you, to reassure themselves that you are OK and in one piece, because you and I both know you don't show up unless you're hurt or having money trouble but they don't know that. They assume something is wrong and you're hiding out and helping out while you do. So yeah, if I look at your rescues in a purely monetary sense, you're expensive but if I'm looking at my men, making sure you're OK is priceless, both for me and for them. If something happened to you I could never forgive myself and my men would never forgive themselves or let it go. Babe, I can order the men to protect you but you've encouraged them to love and respect you as much as you love and respect them."

Where did I put the box of Kleenex? My Babe can do many things, but cry attractively is not one of them.

"So, if Tank, Lester, and Bobby asked you to become CO, I'm guessing they have something in the works and know they need to put someone in charge who can be trusted to do what's right for the company, not for one branch or another. That person is you. I could call in another XO to run the company but their natural inclination would be to favor their office. Every man in the company knows that your questions are to be answered truthfully and immediately, regardless of the situation. You are one of five people in the entire company to have access to every report, every building and every file. I added you to those things after the Scrog situation. Plus, the CO has access to the financial reports and the bank accounts and Babe, you were added to all the financial reporting and business bank accounts after the break-ins. There's no way I want any one XO to know the overall financial state of the company." She's staring at me, stunned. Good. Let's press on. "At the time, it was emergency procedures planning, just in case the entire Core team was unavailable or out of commission for some reason, but I've had the plans to bring you into the company in the works for a long time. I was waiting for you to decide that you'd had enough of being a BEA and wanted something more to do. This isn't the way I wanted to do it, but needs must, Babe. We need you to do us the ultimate favor and run the company for us while the Core Team is unavailable."

She's quiet so I go grab a couple bottles of water. I'm thinking how to continue to press my advantage and realize that Ben and Jerry can help me. Chunky Monkey, TastyKakes (Is this stuff really in my kitchen? Man, the guys really had this planned out), and a couple bottles of water for me travel back to the bedroom. I get a small smile over the ice cream, but still no response.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

"_We need you to do us the ultimate favor and run the company for us while the Core Team is unavailable__."_

I cannot do this job. I **cannot** do this job. To know that I have Ranger's trust is the best feeling in the world but I've seen what goes on at RangeMan Trenton. I would be crushed under the workload of the entire company.

He's had it in mind to bring me in for a long time. If he's been adding me to things since Scrog, then he's been planning this for at least 2 years. 2 years of planning for a woman who. . .Let's not go there. We've already had that discussion. Concentrate on the job offer. You would **be** Ranger for a year. You would be Ranger with no Tank, Lester, or Bobby. Even Ranger has BLT for backup. No. I want to know what's going on and I want to know what's going on **now**.

"Ranger?"

"Yes, Babe?"

"I need to speak to the guys. NOW." He chuckles and picks up the phone.

"You've been summoned." He throws some shorts on me and moves me to the couch. BLT has arrived and is getting comfortable.

"We've been talking. I'm not convinced. I want to know what is going on. I can't make a decision without knowing why you guys are going to be gone."

Lester grins. "Ah Beautiful, I'm glad to know you're considering it. Long story short, we told you days ago we wanted to grow the company. Well during the past week while we've been in hiding we planned the move to San Antonio. We've scouted the security companies we want to buy, determined which men from each office we want to take to help us get it off the ground and started examining open bids for contracts in the area. Basically, we've done everything we can from here so we need to go there personally and get a look at the area. Find office space and apartments, establish ourselves with the local authorities and start putting in bids. There are some very _very_ lucrative contracts on bid right now, government and commercial and this is the time to strike. We're ready. But it's going to be a lot of work and a lot of time, we're talking 16-18 hour days, which means we won't be able to respond to RM Trenton or the company as a whole. Each time we've done this we've left a XO in charge while we bring the other office up but it's not as satisfactory. One of the biggest problems we have is once they get a look at the global picture of RangeMan they want to do things that favor the company, yes, but more especially their branch. We'll never leave Mark in Boston in charge ever again. And it's hard for them to unlearn the numbers once we take back the reins. So, one of our lessons learned was that we need someone neutral to spearhead. You might come from the Trenton branch but we trust you to do what's right for the entire company." OK, that squares with what Ranger just said but I'm still not buying this.

"Oh so that's what you guys are up to? Babe told me you've been causing panic through the company."

"Necessary," Tank replies. "We needed to know if Manny, Ram, and Hal could handle the stress and uncertainty or if they would relax their guard before they were certain that everything was fine. They performed well, really well, so I'm comfortable leaving them in charge here while we move to Texas. The only thing that made me uncomfortable" Tank looks directly at me, "was not having my eyes on my Little Girl here. So I needed to know that they would be relentless in checking for and resolving any threats to her safety and well being. Given that Ram looks like he's been on a week-long bender because he was desperate to make sure that there were no threats against her, I'm now more comfortable leaving her security in their hands. He damn near lived in the 'Bomber' file looking for a threat." What the hell! I can take care of myself. . . most of the time. . . they have a file?

"Yeah Bomber, we have a file. It contains a list of all your FTAs and their statuses, all known, known unknown, and unknown known threats to you and any threats to you possibly stemming from Ranger. We check it religiously." Bobby smiles. I gotta stop talking out loud.

"I still don't buy it. Why does it take all three of you to open an office, especially if you're taking men from the other offices out there with you?"

"Well, one of us has to be the face of the company when we go to bid the jobs," Bobby says. "That's Tank. As Chief XO he knows how to move our bid through the channels to get it considered. He will also need to make contact with bond agencies, existing security companies, etc, in order to get us the contracts we need to get started. Lester has the job of hiring. Even though we're taking guys with us, we're basically giving them a short transfer to this new office. Some may decide to stay but others will want to transfer back to their home office. Lester will need to hire the right people, test them relentlessly, and determine if they fit. Plus, trying to find the right mix of guys is a full-time job so he will be preoccupied with that. Meanwhile, I have the admin work. Finding buildings and apartments, meeting with contractors and architects, filing for permits, concealed carry permits, setting up bank accounts and payroll, shit, I'll be in the paper weeds for weeks. All in all, it takes 6-9 months to get a new office up and running at capacity, which is why we're estimating that we'll be there for a year. That's why we need you, Bomber, to take charge of the company overall. Ranger will be unavailable soon and we'll be in Texas, not completely unavailable to you but definitely not answering timely. Having you here solves a lot of worry for us."

"And Beautiful, we trust you. Any decision you make will be one you make because it's right, not because it's easy." Have they not been paying attention to my life? "Yeah we have, but how you handle your professional life is different from how you handle your personal life. One example: Evelyn Soder." Lester smiles. "You'll have what's best for the company at heart. Besides, I want to press one point. I know you said that part of your reasoning for considering the Bonds Enforcement job was that you got to be Ranger," Thanks Lester. Can I die of embarrassment now? "but we don't want you to be Ranger. We want you to be Stephanie, my Beautiful, Bobby's Bomber, Tank's Little Girl. Who you are is who we love. You aren't going to do the job the way Ranger or Tank or Bobby or I would and that's fine because I wouldn't do the job the way Ranger does it or the way Bobby would do it. You have to find your own style and do that."

I raise my hand and they're all quiet. I have to admit, that makes me feel somewhat better. I'm not Ranger, I cannot do things his way and if they're OK with me doing things my own way….wait, am I really considering this? I cannot consider this! I'm not qualified. The men in the other branches would crucify me. They would never accept my authority. I have no idea how to handle that much money. I can't run any of those departments. RangeMan is the epitome of "lead by example." Ranger doesn't ask his men to do anything he can't do but there's lots I can't do. I can't wire a security system. I can barely cuff a skip and definitely not the dangerous ones. I wouldn't know where to begin doing the work.

Ranger tilts my head up and looks into my eyes. He doesn't say anything, he just stares at me. It's as if he's trying to pour every bit of confidence and certainty into me through my eyes. Do I think I can do this job? Hell no. Do I think I'm qualified to do this job? Certainly not. But Ranger seems to think I am. And he's never wrong. He's always been there for me, he's never led me down the wrong path, he believes I can do this. Tank believes I can do this. Bobby believes I can do this. Lester is selling it to me with both barrels blazing so he believes I can do this.

Ranger's been waiting for the day when he could bring me into his company and, apparently, in at a high level. He's believed in me for 4 years.

Ranger thinks I can.

If I bankrupt his company, he'll only have himself to blame.

* * *

**Ram's POV**

Man, Core Team has got to stop calling us at 0115. Once again, I'm double-timing it up the stairs, fully dressed, sniper rifle in hand. I assume nothing. I hear Manny and Hal enter the stairs just below me.

Hal. "Intel?"

"None."

This time we climb all the way to 7. There's no way to get in unless you have a key but Tank's waiting for us. He ushers us down the hall to Ranger's apartment. I gotta say, I've never been on 7 but this is really nice.

Inside we find Bobby, Lester, Steph, and holy shit, Ranger's back! Manny, Hal, and I step over to him and shake his hand. It's always good to see the boss. This is a really swanky apartment.

"Stand down. Take a seat. Drink?" Again, is this a social call? "No, Ram, this is not a social call. This is business." Ranger smiles as Tank returns with water for everyone. Gotta work on my blank face. "There are numerous reasons that you are here but let me start first with, I heard about the job that you three have done here the past week. Very impressive."

"Thank you, sir," Hal replies. Manny and I nod. Yes, but where are you going with this?

"In fact, it was impressive enough for Tank, Lester, and Bobby to discuss a change in management and procedure here at RangeMan Trenton. Shall I continue?" Yes, **PLEASE! **"I would like to offer the three of you the positions you have been performing here at RangeMan Trenton for the past week. Hal, you would take over as XO, Manny would continue as strategic coordinator, and Ram would continue as external liaison. Are you interested in accepting the positions?"

If my face could grin any wider, it would split into two. YES YES YES! "Yes sir, I would be pleased to accept the position. Thank you, sir." That's echoed by Hal and Manny, both looking thrilled and excited.

"There are things that will need to be done, setup changes that will need to take place, but the most important thing to stress at this junction is, from this moment on, you are in charge of RangeMan Trenton. Your decisions, your responsibility. Since we are calling you so late at night," Steph snorts "or earlier in the morning, depending on your outlook, you need to decide if you need someone to cover for you in the morning or not. If so, you need to call them. And Ram?"

"Sir?"

"At the end of this discussion, I'm ordering you to go home and get some sleep. You look like the end of Spring Break in Tijuana."

This gets belly laughter from everyone. I can't help it; I crack a smile. Hal calls Junior and tells him to run the bridge if he doesn't report by 0800. Bobby informs me he'll do the job for the day; I still need to determine who is going to be my second. _Ha! __**MY**__ second!_

"Next items up for discussion. I expect you to keep the next two bits of information to yourselves until we publicly release it. Is that understood?"

Manny: "Yes sir."

"Good. In one week, Tank, Lester, and Bobby are leaving to open a new office—"

"San Antonio?" Shit, did **not** mean to interrupt the boss, but I just gotta know if Manny and I were right. Ranger, Bobby and Tank look stunned, but Lester is laughing his ass off.

"Which one of you came up with that?"

"Well," Manny replies, "we both guessed a new office. I guessed San Antonio and Ram couldn't decide between San Antonio and Laredo until we talked." Lester grins and sticks his hands in front of Bobby and Tank, who immediately curse us for being 'too fucking smart'. Whoops. They each lost $100. Now Steph and Ranger are laughing and Tank and Bobby are shooting us looks that normally mean time on the mats and no hope of ibuprofen.

Ranger looks at Lester. "I see what you mean. Anyway, yes, Tank, Lester, and Bobby are headed to San Antonio in one week. With you taking over the positions here and them in the field trying to get the new office going, we realized we needed someone to oversee RangeMan as a whole. Therefore, Stephanie has agreed to serve as CO for the next year, or until I return, whichever comes first."

* * *

**Manny's POV**

I think my brain just short-circuited. _Wifey? Wifey_ is going to be in charge of the whole company? I'm certain I'm not allowed to kiss her but this is the best thing ever! I knew it! I called it! I'll never doubt my instincts again.

"Manny, you look very happy about this. Care to explain?" Lester says, smiling.

I look over. Ram and Hal look happy, but I must look like all my Christmas's just rolled into one.

"I am happy because. . . well. . . how do I explain this?" I'm searching for the right words to show Wifey, and Ranger, what I mean.

"Carefully." Wifey says, looking suspicious. "And use small words and few acronyms, please."

Think man! Quickly! "That. That right there is why I'm thrilled," I reply. I know I'm not making sense, but I continue and pray that this bullshit I'm spinning sounds good. "Everyone knows that Steph has a unique way of looking at things, a different way of approaching problems and finding solutions. She likes clarity and cutting through confusion but in the midst of insanity she can make all kinds of connections. It's one of the things that make her great. We could crush the competition with her in charge. Just think of what the Apprehensions departments at each location would be like with Steph teaching them how she does it. Not to mention, you being able to look at the company as a whole and implement solutions for the entire company will only make us better, stronger, quicker to respond the right way the first time. Hell, thanks to your. . . ummm. . . situations, we've learned how to assess threats faster and respond quicker." This is the quickest thing I can think of off the cuff and while everything I just said is absolutely true, it's not the real reason I'm so happy. I decide not to mention that being CO means she won't be in the field as often and that reduces the likelihood of her picking up a stalker or a crazy and if we're really lucky, she'll continue to live on 7, reducing the number of break-ins and dead bodies in her apartment. This is just the best thing **ever**.

"Have you ever heard of group think, Steph?" Ram asks. Wifey shakes her head no. "It's the concept that a group of people, especially those with similar backgrounds or training, tend to think similarly, which inhibits creative responses or novel approaches. Just about every man here is ex-military or ex-gang, hierarchical structures that value conformity and obedience. We all have the same training, so we tend to look at problems the same. You don't. Prime example, the kids who were stealing from the company. Completely different approach from how we were investigating it, but you found them and pretty quickly." Nice way to carry the ball there, Ram. I wonder what Ram and Hal are really thinking.

"I agree. Plus having you around RMTrenton is an immediate morale boost, Bombshell," Hal adds. "We all get together more and have more fun at work when you're around. We were thrilled you were here in the building all week, but it sucked that we couldn't see you. Every man here was on pins and needles wondering if there was a threat against you we hadn't found yet. Because of it, productivity was up 17% and response times were 6.7 seconds faster. Everyone was just panicked that there was something wrong we hadn't found yet." Steph and Ranger smile at each other while Ranger's eyebrow lifts.

I'm in my own little world, thinking about how Wifey can make this company better. How can I help her get started? Where to begin? Can I talk her into a full security detail? I must look too happy because the next thing I hear is a very sharp "Manuel!" from Ranger. SHIT! Gotta pay attention.

"Sir?"

Ranger looks as Lester, then Wifey. "Congratulations. You've acquired your very own Lester."

"Oh good," Wifey smiles. "I like Lester." Lester smiles and Ranger suddenly looks very dangerous.

"Anyway, Steph is CO and you three are taking over but for the next week, you'll split the duties with Tank, Bobby and Lester because we will need to setup different access to different places for you, including keys up here and to Tank and Bobby's current apartments which will become shared apartments for the three of you. You'll need to sign a new contract and we will also need to review and give you access to the financial statements and issue the press release. Ready gentlemen?"

Are you kidding me? I'm headed right back down to get my red folder.

* * *

**Hal's POV**

Am I ready? I mean, I've agreed to do it and I think I can do it, but am I ready?

Yes. I'm ready. I can do this. I gotta read my Bible tonight but I can do this. However, I'm about to open my mouth and get fired as quickly as I just got promoted.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Hal?" Ranger replies.

"I know that by asking this I'm possibly risking termination and having my ass handed to me, excuse my language," Ranger's eyebrow lifts, "but I need to know before I sign a contract exactly what my duties in regards to the CO will be?" Now everyone is looking at me confused. I've stepped in it, might as well roll around and get nice and dirty. "No offense, Bombshell, but. . . you're known for your love of sweets, candy, cake, pretty much all contraband. You don't go to the gym. You won't carry a gun. Standard operating procedures are that if the person overseeing your care and safety is negligent and you're harmed, that person might want to go ahead and run for their life. I love you as my sister but, excuse my language, I don't want to get my ass handed to me weekly by Tank. Over the phone or in person and I definitely don't want Ranger on my case. And I don't want to have to put down in rebellions in the staff. I took Roger King to the mats for tardiness and contraband doughnuts yesterday but he's got another round to go with Manny for insubordination. I don't want that every day. I need to know now if I'm going to have to enforce two sets of standards so I can prepare for what's gonna hit me."

Yeah. I've stepped in it. Core Team all have blank faces although I think I see amusement in Lester's. I hope I see amusement in Lester's. Oh God. No, no, I'll be OK. I know myself and I know the enemy so I can win a hundred battles. I just can't run fast enough to save myself from Ranger's wrath so please Lord, encourage him to leave pieces big enough for my mother to bury me. I'd like to see Kansas again. Manny and Ram are looking at me as if they'd like to back me up but they fear Ranger's wrath and Stephanie looks horrified. I'm sorry. I love you but I can't enforce two sets of standards although I'll try if that's what I'm told to do.

Finally Ram speaks up. "Sir, I'm going to stand by Hal on this one. There's a set of standards for RangeMan and we need to know if women in this company are going to be held to a different standard." Oh how PC. Thanks Ram. We aren't talking about "women," we're talking about Steph. I mean, she is a woman, but . . . nevermind. You know what I mean. Thanks a lot.

Manny sighs. "I agree. I love you Steph but I'm not having Lester pull his blades on me if you get hurt. I'd rather turn this position down rather than be unable to fulfill it properly."

Steph is looking at all of us as if we are the ultimate traitors but I'd rather lose a job I never had than to get fired from doing something I love. There is complete silence in the apartment. The fun, joking atmosphere is gone. Finally, Ranger turns and looks at Steph. There's a silent discussion between them and Ranger turns to me and says, "We'll discuss it in the morning, Hal." She has tears in her eyes and she refuses to look at me but I couldn't help that question. It had to be asked. We all stand to leave and once outside, Bobby, Tank, and Lester all turn to me. Tank says "Follow me," and Ram, Manny and I follow him down to four and inside his apartment, soon to be ours if we're still employed tomorrow. The place has stacks of paper everywhere. Tank disappears into the kitchen while Lester and Bobby stare at me, blank-faced. Tank returns with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses. The same tequila Bobby gave Ram. Tank grins. Lester and Bobby crack up.

"To Hal, the man with the gigantic watermelon-sized balls! Hip Hip-"

"**Hooray**!" reply everyone but me. I'm too stunned to knock my drink back.

"Oh Hal," Lester says with a grin, "Remind us to get you completely shit-faced. You have no idea how you've just helped us."

Now I can knock the tequila back. As long as I'm not getting my ass handed to me.

I know the enemy. I know myself. I can win a hundred battles.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Hal is officially on my shit list. I mean, he basically made it seem as if he was going to have to beat up all the men just because I like TastyKakes. And cake. And doughnuts. . . oh, not fair. I'm not supposed to see his point in the middle of a trip to denial. That's why it's called denial. So I don't have to acknowledge it. Top of my shit list, buddy. Absolute top. How dare you ruin a trip to denial for me. I need to recharge my stun gun, just for you.

I'm going to have to be Ranger. I'm going to have to exercise. I'm going to have to eat bark and twigs. I'm going to have to actually put bullets in my gun **and** I have to go to the range. No fair! They tricked me! They got me all excited about doing the job, told me I could do it my way, praised me to the sky, then let Hal drag me back to earth. No fair! I was tricked! I call do-overs!

Ranger sits down next to me and hands me a Kleenex. I don't want to acknowledge him. It's 2:00 AM and I've just been plopped back down on earth. I can see him sigh mentally.

"Babe, how long is the trip to denial going to take?" I refuse to look at him. "Babe, I'm pretty certain I'll have to be back in Fairfax by 0900 Tuesday. I don't want to spend the last moments I have with you before I'm incommunicado fighting. We need to go ahead and discuss this."

I don't want to discuss it, Ranger. I was lied to. I was tricked. I need to go to denial. My leg is broken so I can't clean and even if I could, Ella's a domestic goddess. There's nothing to clean.

"Fine, Babe. Let's start with the easy stuff. Will you still accept the post as CO?"

I cringe but nod my head. "Only because you've asked me to and you think I can do it."

"I know you can do it Babe. I have every confidence that when I return I won't even recognize my company, you'll do so well. So, are you going to give the men a hard time?"

I don't want to answer this. Even when I don't try to, I do.

"Alright, different question. Are you willing to make whatever changes are necessary to lead the company?"

I don't want to answer this either. I feel a mental sigh to my right.

"Babe, you can't have it both ways. We just talked about this, about the changes you would have to make in order to be a part of my life and now we're sitting here not talking, which makes me wonder if you **really** accept my life and the lifestyle we would lead. Do you accept me the way I am?" I'm silent. "Yeah, this is the reason that I've never wanted to give you any hope of this, whatever we have, becoming anything more," Ranger mutters.

I can feel the tears on my cheeks but, dammit, I was promised something different!

"I'm headed down to 4, to talk to the guys about what's been going on and what they expect to accomplish. I also need to give them the heads up on the current state of my mission. I'm going to leave you here to visit Denial and we can talk when I return, if you want to. Babe, I'm not giving you an ultimatum but I am telling you that you aren't exactly selling me on us right now." Ranger picks me up and carries me back to the bed. He leaves and I start bawling.

OK, that hurt. That's not fair, Ranger. You've known me for 4 years. You know who I am just as I know who you are. You know I don't do sweat, guns, or bark and twigs. I **HATE** the gym. I hate treadmills and unending boring running. I hate the gun range. I don't like the sound of gunfire and the recoil. Guns scare me. Guns mean death. I've had enough of death. I don't want to give up Cluck in a Bucket, doughnuts, cake and ice cream. I love food. I love that dessert is the base of my food pyramid. Sugar makes me happy. Hey, if I can't have sugar and you leave, I'm going to be climbing up the walls. My sugar hormones will turn into sex hormones and without you here to take care of them I'll lose my mind!

And that **was** an ultimatum. It was! Either I have to change or **we** can't be and it isn't fair because I'm doing all the changing and you get to continue to do as you like. This is Joe all over again only instead of marriage and babies it's guns and treadmills. I need someone to talk to but it's 2 in the morning. Who can I call? Who can I talk to?

"Mary Lou?" This is what friendship is all about. Best friends are the people you can wake from a dead sleep at 2AM without being cussed out. Normally, I would call you, Ranger, but you are the problem.

"Yeah? Steph? Oh my God, what's wrong? Are you OK?" Mary Lou's gone from sleepy to alert in 10 seconds flat. I can hear her moving from her bed.

"Mary Lou, I really need someone to talk to. I'm sorry to call so late but I have to talk to someone."

"OK Steph, I'm listening. No, no, Lenny, it's Steph. Go back to sleep."

I tell her everything, starting with the breakup with Joe, my trip to Point Pleasant with Ranger, how I feel about Joe and Ranger, the problems I had with Thomas Mann and my past week at RangeMan. The phone beeps twice during the call, so I know that Ranger knows that I've called someone and since he hasn't shown up, I'm sure he's figured out that I called Mary Lou.

"So what do you think, Mary Lou? I mean, it's not fair that both men in my life want me to make all the changes and they don't have to make any. It's not fair!"

I hear a sigh and a yawn. "No, Steph, you're wrong about that. I mean, let's be honest here. Joe hates Ranger. He despises him. He thinks Ranger pulls you into dangerous situations all the time and, based on what you've told me in the past, he's right to think that. But in order to make you happy he's willing to accept Ranger. He probably would accept you working for RangeMan if you want to. He just asked that you carry and become competent and even though I don't know what he means by competent he is willing to accept that you still want to be a bounty hunter. That's a lot of change for him because he essentially accepted that the person most likely to get you killed would remain in your life and you would continue to do a job likely to get you seriously injured or killed. He's willing to meet you halfway **and** he accepted that he might not get a proposal from you for years. He told you it was your decision when your lives together would begin and that's a huge concession from him because he's been after you for a while to get married and have babies. He's basically taking a gamble that you love him more than you love Ranger."

Mary Lou, you are not helping. You're supposed to be on my side. You're supposed to make soothing noises and tell me I'm right and that both men are assholes.

"No can do Steph and yes you said that out loud. You asked me what I think and I've never lied to you before and I'm not about to start now. Now, you want to hear what I think about Ranger?"

Big sigh. "Yeah, go ahead."

"Alright. Here it is. Do you love the man or not?"

"Of course I love him."

"Will you still love him in 10 years if nothing changes?"

"Is that a standard married person's question? Joe said that was the same question his mother asked him and he had to answer no."

Laughter. "Yes, it is a standard married person's question because it's the question that you ask in order to determine if you can continue to put up with something that drives you crazy. I ask myself that all the time. It's what keeps me from strangling Lenny every time his clothes fail to reach the hamper. And you didn't answer the question. Will you still love him in 10 years if nothing between you changes?"

I'm quiet for a moment. "Yes, I would love him to my very last breath."

"Is it worth it to you to make the changes necessary to make him consider something more?" I don't answer that. I know the answer but that's admitting defeat. I can hear Mary Lou sigh.

"Steph, if you want a life with Ranger, you're going to have to make some changes. Ranger's concession is offering you the possibility of having a truly committed relationship with him. It's the one thing he's never been willing to even contemplate with you before because of the supposed danger and because of your on-again off-again relationship with Joe. He's already added you onto his business life and I'll bet you're a part of his personal life too. Besides, for all the bullshit Ranger has talked in the past, the man is traditional in some things. He told you that if you were his he wouldn't tolerate any poaching and that you'd have to come home in the same panties you left in, which by the way, is still the hottest line ever. I'd bet money that the moment he feels that you've accepted his lifestyle and what it means, the moment you really are a part of his life, he'll be shopping for wedding bands to make it official and legal. The kids may or may not ever happen but I'm betting the ring would. Are you OK with that idea?"

Oh god, I don't want to think about it. "I don't want to think about that right now, ML."

"Well, you should. Decide if your aversion to marriage really is marriage or the men who proposed. Anyway, Ranger's life is difficult and dangerous. You got a look at the calendar. You see what he has going on. That's just one branch. He leveled with you. He didn't lie, he didn't hold anything back. He told you, point blank, that a life with him means constant danger and that you would have to accept things you don't like, like panic buttons and safe houses. He didn't say anything about exercise or diet, did he?"

"No. . . not really. Safe houses, panic buttons, loaded gun, no running from all the things I run from now. That's not specifying diet and exercise, but it's included in there."

"Well, you should wonder what it says about you that your first thought is that he's trying to cram diet and exercise down your throat and that wasn't even something he listed specifically. All his specific demands had to do with your safety not your personal lifestyle preferences. So that wasn't fair. He didn't ask you to change. You decided to take the position and you knew what would come with it. A week ago you were willing to make the changes just to have the possibility of a relationship with him. You started thinking about the changes you wanted to ask him for. Now you don't want to because Hal, was it Hal? The same guy you stunned to go to Valerie's baby shower, right?"

"Yeah, it was Hal."

"Poor guy. Anyway, Hal asked if he was going to be responsible for you and to be honest, I don't blame Hal. I wouldn't want to be the person responsible for your safety and experience tells him that alone is a full-time job. Take pity on him; this poor guy was just offered his dream job and in the middle of the night he has enough wits about him to ask about you. That should give you an idea of what you're going to have to deal with if you take this position. Hal is right: he can't enforce a set of standards for the men when the top person in the entire company doesn't follow them. It's hypocritical. But never mind that, back to Ranger. He said that you two would discuss the possibility of your lives together when he got off this op. That gives you a year to make the changes, see how you like them, and see if you are willing to accept the changes necessary to be a part of his life. You work in a dangerous field Steph so you may find that making these changes is good for you overall. Besides, you've already done the diet bit and it wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, but that's because Ella was cooking for me. The other parts are bad!"

"The other parts are what you make of them. Look, you said Lester promised you flexibility, right? Well, use it. You don't like the treadmill and you hated my yoga class, but have you tried Zumba?"

"Zumba?"

"Yeah, I think you'd really like it. It's a combination of martial arts and dance. I've gone to three beginner's classes and I really like it. You should come with me. It feels like you're doing Latin dances for an hour."

"I'll see ML. I don't know what kind of schedule they'll have me on."

"Steph, you're the CO. You are in charge. You dictate your schedule. If you want to make time for a Zumba class when you're out of that cast, I don't think you'll get too many arguments. Considering the class is pretty much all women, I think they'll start a roster for which lucky man gets to go with you!"

"Mary Lou, all this still requires that I change. **I **have to do all the changing."

"First, all relationships are about change, Steph. Change, adaptation, no matter what you have to learn how to get along with the other person. You compromise in order to keep that person in your life. You can't have everything your way in a relationship. That's life, Steph. And regardless of who you choose, they **both** want the same thing: for you to improve your skills at bounty hunting. They both want you to be armed and proficient. Joe demanded it point blank; Ranger simply asked that you take your safety more seriously, but in taking this job you and he both know what that really means. So you can't hold that against either of them, which just leaves you with the decision of who you love more: Ranger or Joe. Or more correctly, who can you not live without?"

We keep talking for few minutes and I start to feel better but I guess Mary Lou isn't done.

"Steph?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you aren't going to like this but I'm going to say it and I want you to think about it, alright? You and Joe broke up what, two or two and a half weeks ago and I never heard a thing from you so I figured it was another one of your on again, off again breakups. In reality, it was more serious than that. Tonight, you and I have been on the phone for an hour and a half talking about the changes you would need to make in your life to be with Ranger. Ranger holds out the _vague_ possibility of the two of you _perhaps_ having a relationship and you freak out about what you have to do. That just happened, what, two hours ago? Not for a single moment do you consider not doing it; you just think his demands are unfair, demands he really didn't make but they come with the position he's offering. Joe promises to give you everything you want in order to have a relationship and you consider it off with him permanently. In the end neither of them changed their basic stances and they both asked for the exact same thing." Oh no, Mary Lou, don't say it. Please don't say it. "I think, Steph, you've made your decision; you just aren't being brave enough to stand by it. You're keeping Joe as a backup in case Ranger decides that he isn't willing to take a chance on a relationship with you. And as much as I like Ranger that's unfair to Joe. Marry him because you love him, not because Ranger wouldn't come up to scratch. No one likes to be the back-up plan." She said it. She actually voiced what I've avoided thinking about all week. Sometimes best friends just don't know when to stop.

Mary Lou is right; I didn't like that but we've been friends since diapers, so I'll think about it. Later. Right now I have a job offer to negotiate.

* * *

Mary Lou is right. Joe gave me his ultimatum, which was everything that could be expected. Ranger is making a concession or he'll be making a big concession in a year. Maybe. At best, I have the _vague_ possibility of a relationship with him but it's the most hope he's ever been willing to give me. In the meantime, he offered me his entire company to run, no one else to answer to, all decisions are mine and I'm moaning about having to give up cake. And Mary Lou is right (she's been right a lot tonight; we need to talk more often): I'm not being fair to Hal. He doesn't deserve me taking away his big chance, his opportunity to accept his dream job, just because I don't like exercise. Or guns. Damn, I hate this. But I can't give up cake and TastyKakes or ice cream. The sugar hormones will not accept that. I reach over into the nightstand drawer and take out a piece of paper. Time to list my conditions.

**No treadmill**. I will work with the guys to find exercise I like, but I will not submit to the treadmill.

**Sugar remains in my diet in some form or fashion**. Ranger won't be here to take care of the jelly hormones so something has to give.

**I will concede to trackers and panic buttons**. No point not doing so. I'm sure Ranger was going to insist anyway.

**Can I count 1 hour a week of paintball for 1 hour range practice?** I still don't like the idea of pointing a gun at someone but at least paintball is fun.

**I concede to the defense training**. I need it anyway. No point fighting.

I call Tank's apartment and ask all the guys to come back, if they're still awake. Everyone returns and sits. I look Hal directly in the eye.

"I resented your question." Hal nods. "I resented it a lot because I felt it was unfair. For that I owe you an apology. I owe all three of you an apology." Hal, Ram, and Manny look stunned. "You were right and it was pointed out to me that if I were you, I would hate to be in charge of my safety. So, I am giving you my word that I will not purposely place myself in dangerous situations. I will accept a partner. I will not go off by myself. And I will voluntarily allow you to override any of my orders when it is in regards to my safety. However, I prefer to be asked for my cooperation, not ordered to do something." Hal looks completely stunned, but he finally nods once.

"Thank you Steph. I can manage that. I appreciate your promise and I give you mine. I will remember to ask for your cooperation in regards to your safety." Ranger, Tank, Bobby, and Lester are all grinning. "However, can I get your promise that if I order you to do something in regards to your safety that you'll comply first and yell at me later? I would only order you to do something if there was a threat of imminent danger. Sometimes there just isn't time to negotiate cooperation." Reasonable. I don't like it but I nod. Hal is pretty sharp for 3:45 AM.

"Since you are now the XO, here is my list of demands in regards to RangeMan standards." I pass Hal the list and all the guys lean over his shoulders to read it. There's widespread amusement at the list, but Hal looks confused.

"Um..Steph, I don't understand what you mean in 2. Jelly hormones?"

"Don't worry about number 2 Hal," Ranger grins. "I'll work with Ella on that one."

"Are these negotiable, Steph?" Hal asks.

"Not really but you can try. A part of being CO is willingness to listen." Yet again, Ranger grins.

"OK, the treadmill. We'll concede that you don't like it but you need to be seen on it. So can we ask you to hop on twice a week? It will also give us a chance to assess your cardio conditioning, which is part of the monthly health check."

I consider this. I just went from 20 days of treadmill to 8. "OK, done."

"Lester was telling us he had some ideas for other exercise you might want to try, stuff in pools, Zumba, maybe Tai'Chi and Krav Maga."

I recognized the words pool and Zumba. Everything else was unfamiliar. "Mary Lou is in a Zumba class and has recommended it. I'll give it a shot." Ranger and Lester both nod. Ranger's eyes narrow at the mention of Mary Lou, but overall he looks pleased.

"OK, number 4. I'm sure you know I was all keyed up to get you on the range, right?" Ram asks. I nod. Yes, you trigger happy sniper, I know you were looking forward to that. "I will accept the loss of 1 hour of range time and I will meet you by putting up a schedule in the break room. We'll make paintballing a branch-wide activity. That way everyone gets to get out, have fun, and help you become a crack shot. And hopefully, you never have to use your new skills." I nod, smiling. I was hoping for that. Good, now I can get out and have fun with all the guys. Only one condition left and apparently Manny is the spokesman for this one.

"OK Steph. The plan with number 5 is to place a sign-up sheet in the break room asking for both volunteers and skills. I'm sure we won't have problems filling it because I'm guessing all the guys will jump at the chance to show off their skills and teach you how to be a complete bad ass. Since you're still in the cast, we'll probably start with the stuff you can do sitting down, like how to pick locks and handcuffs." He grins. "Acceptable?"

"Yes." There. I've just worked this out in ways I can accept. I still don't like the majority of this but there's a bigger goal here: Ranger. And he looks pleased by my willingness to make the changes.

"Ok guys, I need to talk to Steph about some other things, so let's meet at 1300 to talk and get started teaching you how to run this branch. And Tank, we're still on for 0500."

"Shit!"

"Any other questions?"

"HUA!" Everyone leaves and I'm left with a very happy Ranger.


	10. MY Motivations aren't the same as Yours

**A/N: I cannot begin to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews and support. THANK YOU! You guys are wonderful! I am still in need of a Beta (I still see typos in my work) if anyone wants to help. I have a scene coming up that I need MAJOR help with.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: MY Motivations aren't the same as Yours**

**Ranger's POV**

I don't believe it. She's willing to make the changes. She's giving Hal the authority over her safety. She's negotiating to work her way up to RangeMan standards. Lester is a fucking genius and I need to buy Hal a bottle of the best bubbly before I leave. When did he acquire those balls?

As I headed down to Tank's apartment I was sure that I was going to have to cajole her into agreeing to the conditions. I was not looking forward to it. Being in my life, being part of my life, comes with risks and for the past four years I've been living a paradox. I don't have time to babysit someone who won't make the changes but I can't leave her on her own because then she'll end up over her head and dead.

I'd made a lot of plans, come up with different strategies to run to bring her to my side but they all required that I demand she change. They all demanded that I oversee her. They all demanded that I bully her into it and the last thing I want is to bully her into doing something for her own good. Just as I wanted her to choose me over the Cop of her own free will, I wanted her to choose to take her life seriously so I could start thinking about _Someday_.

Lester managed it. He herded her right into the trap and then left her to decide if it was worth it to her to do it. At first, I told Lester to modify his psy-op to get her out of my apartment. I didn't want my apartment and my building to become her new revolving door. If she was there, she was going to be there to stay. The last thing I wanted was to be the Cop, watching her pack up her laundry basket and move out.

Regardless of what she told me 2 weeks ago, I'm not convinced that it's over between her and the Cop. I don't know why it's off; she won't tell me and not knowing why she declared it was over between them is killing me. Did he make some new demand that she was waffling on? Did he break it off because of this op? Idiot forgot he was chipped; I know he went to see her last weekend. So what's really going on? I've never given her any hope that she should expect a relationship between us and all of a sudden she's willing to take a chance on me changing my mind? I need more information. I still think it was substitution that night but I wanted her too badly to let the opportunity go. At best, I think it was consent and partial substitution and I'll move with that.

Lester thought I was the world's biggest idiot. He'd done all this work to box her in and I was putting a major crimp in his plans. I'll never admit it, not aloud anyway and definitely not to him, but Lester ran a better psy-op than I could. He has no fear and he had nothing to lose. I feared losing her permanently to the Cop; I had too much to lose. I've seen this too many times. I've watched her go back to him too many times.

So I capitulated; I'll let Lester run his plan as he has it setup. Bobby sent Ram, Manny, and Hal to get their status reports and the video of the Linden-King fight for me to see so we had privacy for the discussion. I told Lester about our conversation two weeks ago and he looked thoughtful.

"So, you didn't make any promises of anything more than a talk, a discussion, right?"

"Right." Bobby looked disgusted and took a seat.

"So we did all this work, all this talking, and in the end, if she agrees, she still isn't doing this for herself. She's doing it to have a shot at Ranger! She's doing it in this hopes that she and Ranger can have a relationship! This isn't what I signed on for Lester. I wanted her to do this for herself. I wanted the changes to be their own goal." Tank looked disappointed and resigned but Lester was grinning.

"Bobby, you still underestimate Steph. She's not doing this for Ranger." Bobby moved to speak and Lester raised his hand. "Seriously, she'll agree because we believe in her and because it comes with the position of CO. Think about it. She and Ranger had this conversation two weeks ago. At no point in the past two weeks did she make any changes in her life that would encourage Ranger to seriously consider a relationship with her when he returned. Knowing Steph, she probably thought she would just wait for Ranger's return and then, when he mandated the diet and exercise and guns, then she would have to give in. She made absolutely no plans to change anything about her life so this isn't about Ranger."

We all considered that in light of what we know about Steph and, yet again, Lester appeared to be correct. Babe is a 'put it off to the last minute' sort of person. If it was about me, about having a relationship with me, she would have waited to make the changes when I returned. Yeah, if she does it now it won't be about me. Bobby still wasn't happy and Lester realized he needed to ensure that Bobby was on board.

"Bro, listen to me. Consider this operation like a fat person going on a diet." Tank looked amused but he was listening closely, as was I. My cousin is the only person I know who loves analogies. "No fat person ever wants to go on a diet until it becomes a necessity, either health or appearance wise. And the goal of a diet is to get healthier but that's rarely the individual's goal. Their goal is to fit back into a dress or a pair of jeans or to get their blood pressure numbers down."

This was resonating with Bobby so Lester continued. "Consider this op the diet. Our goal is Steph's safety but it's not her goal. She has two goals: run RangeMan and not embarrass herself by not meeting standards. The op will whittle her into shape and as we go on she'll start to see the changes. She'll enjoy not getting locked up by her own handcuffs and being able to catch skips in the first 500 yards. She'll enjoy being allowed to do field-work again and not being chained to a desk. Ranger is just an added benefit, her motivation if you will, because it's not like he'll be around for the next year to see the effort she's putting in or praise her for doing it. Once she sees the benefits, it will be damn near impossible to keep her from learning new things. It's just that adopting the mindset and getting over the first few weeks is hell."

"Are you sure about this?" Bobby asked, resigned. It's the thing I love and hate most about Bobby; it there's a hole in your plan, he **will** find it.

Lester shrugged. "It's Steph." We all considered this and shrugged. "No man can ever be sure about anything regarding her. It is the most likely scenario? Yeah, I think it is." He looked at me. "If she makes the changes it will be because we put her in charge. It won't be because you gave her a sliver of hope. But that sliver of hope will motivate her not to give up."

I hope he's right.

* * *

Lester thinks she'll still be here in a year, ready to work it out, having made the changes and adopted the mindset that will be necessary to be a part of my life. I'm trusting that he's right. I cannot go on the way I have and the guys have made it clear they won't allow it. They haven't gone so far as to say they'll pull RangeMan support from her but it's clear that Bobby and Tank expect to start charging her every time she gets in over her head and we have to rescue her. They figure a few bills from us and she'll get the point. That will definitely break our friendship; these guys have had my back in the worst situations but I can't let them bully my woman like that. They pointed out that as long as she's between me and Morelli and I'm not getting it on the regular, she's not really my woman. Assholes. Like I need that reminder.

Well, let's shove that into the back of my mind. Right now, I'm happy and I'm going to enjoy the moment. I have 75 minutes before I have to meet Tank on the mats.

"Babe."

Steph looks disgruntled. "I want to make it clear: I'm not doing this because of you. I'm not doing this because of Hal or anyone else. I'm doing this because you believe in me and you're leaving me in charge so I have to be the example. I'm doing this because RangeMan is 'lead by example'. But I don't have to like it and I don't."

Well, I'll be damned. Lester is getting the Aston Martin. Hell, if this works out well, I might pop for a Lamborghini.

"Fine, Babe. I appreciate you making the gesture." _Dios_, I couldn't come up with anything better? I'm losing my touch. I pull her into my arms. "Bigger issue I want to talk to you about. I would like for you to stay here, on 7, for the next year." I see the protest beginning and I move to cut it off; Lester's instructions. "No, let me explain. If you are going to make the changes, then managing your diet and exercise will be easier if you live on site. That's 30-60 minutes a day that you don't lose in commute time and believe me, as CO it will make a difference. Plus, Ella can help you with the diet over the next year **and** the sugar issue is easier to resolve by having her deliver your sugary treats up here for you to enjoy. I am asking that you never eat them on site anyplace other than 7. I saw part of the tape with Hal and Roger King and I see his concerns. I'll discuss slipping you your sugary treats with Ella but if you are seen in public buying or eating them, and this includes Tasty Pastry and Cluck in a Bucket, you will lose face with the men."

Her shoulders are drooping, but she nods. "Besides, the guys tell me that you're letting Edna stay in your apartment until you're mobile?" She nods, smiling. "I'm thinking you just gave your father the world's biggest gift." We laugh, knowing that Frank Plum is euphoric over the loss of Edna from his home.

"Problem."

"Yes?"

"I can't have any visitors up here." I have no answer for that. I don't want Lula and Connie in my apartment. And Granny Mazur is a hell no. Never. Not a chance. Mary Lou might not be so bad but why take the chance? Which is a shame because I'm feeling very friendly towards Mary Lou right now.

"I don't know what to tell you on that one, Babe. This is my sanctuary in Trenton. I like your friends, but I don't want them searching through my things in my home. Besides, you have so little privacy in your life, Babe. Why would you want to open this place up to everyone? Have you been to Connie's home? To Lula's?" I feel her shake her head against my chest. I thought not; they're forever in her business but they keep their own shit locked up tight.

"For the next year, I want you to consider this our home." I feel her nod against my chest. "Besides, this is part of being in my life. Sometimes there is isolation. I don't want everyone knowing where and how to locate me. It keeps me safe from my enemies and not being able to share the location of our homes would be a reality for you. This is another reason I want you to stay here and try it and see if you are really ready to accept this. And I like the idea of knowing that you're in my bed, in my apartment, waiting for me to come home."

I drive this point home with a passionate kiss, carefully and gently moving my body over hers, mindful of her leg. The couch doesn't give me enough room to maneuver, so I pick her up and carry her to my bed. I have a little over an hour. Not nearly enough time for me, but I've never been a selfish man. I strip her and lay her naked in the center of the bed, enjoying the sight of her body laid out in front of me. She's already wet, looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, nipples straining to reach me.

"Babe, you have no idea how hard I got when Tank told me you were already here. I would have been here days ago had I known." I strip and lie down next to her, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. This kiss is just a prelude, an appetizer, as I slide my hands over her body. This is better than any daydream; her arms and long legs are wrapped around me and I want more than her body is ready for. My fingers trail down her body and dip between her legs. "I was aroused when I walked in the door." I can't help myself; I slide two fingers inside and slowly begin to pump inside her body while licking and sucking her nipples, right then left. She's moaning my name, arching her hips, driving me insane.

I'm not sending her back to the Cop this time; fuck him. I want to be inside her, but there's not enough time. Fucking Tank! I speed up my fingers, add a third, and suck on her breasts. She's grabbed me and she's stroking me, wanting more than than I have time for. I've got to finish this; I refuse to cum before she does. I slide down her body, part her lips and lick the entire length of her slit before plunging my tongue deep inside. I slide my fingers back inside and pump her while sucking her clit. This is heaven, watching her eyes turn sapphire as she tries, and fails, to hold back her orgasm. I worry her clit with my teeth and it's over. Her back lifts off the bed, she's screaming my name and I'm licking the gush of warmth as quickly as I can. There's nothing better. I need her leg to heal. I need to be inside her. I have 5 minutes to meet Tank.

I watch her come down from the orgasm. She's trying to catch her breath and I'm trying not to look too smug. We're both failing and I need to take care of myself before I meet Tank. "Babe. Stay here?"

"Yes, Ranger, I'll stay here." She looks at me with a sleepy grin, then slides down the bed. _Oh Dios, sí!_

Do I really need to meet Tank? I think I'll let it pass.

* * *

It's a miracle that I'm awake and dressed at 1300. I want to believe, I'm choosing to believe, that she's actually chosen me and that I'm not the default because she and the Cop are over. She said that he told her that they wouldn't be unless she proposed to him so I'm going to accept that. I'm not sending her back. I don't want to make her any promises right now because I've already told her we'll talk about this when the op is over but I'm hoping she feels my acceptance of her commitment, my love for her, in every stroke and every kiss. I'm promising nothing right now. I need to see that she will actually make the changes necessary for her safety. I need to know that she will keep her promise. I need to know that she's coming to me of her own free will.

1300 arrives along with Tank, Lester, Bobby, Ram, Manny and Hal on 7. Ella brings sandwiches and snacks and leaves us to it. Ram has finally gotten some sleep and looks healthy again. Tank and Lester look both irritated and relieved. They better thank Babe and decide on relieved. It's rare I don't follow through on my promise of mat time but if I have to choose between my woman and those two. . . that doesn't require thought. Besides, I'm grateful. This psy-op may bring me what I want most.

Each member of the Core team has brought his "bible" for handling duties. We distribute copies to the new Core and explain that this is only a guideline. Other offices have restructured the duties to meet their needs; we only require that all the duties are covered efficiently and effectively and that we know who is responsible for what. Manny and Hal look relieved; clearly they have plans to make some changes. The biggest set of guidelines is for Steph. Hal looks thrilled to discover that a lot of the work he was doing all week belongs to the CO; Steph doesn't look nearly as thrilled.

"Oh My God Ranger! This is insane! How can any one person get through all this?"

Tank coughs into his hand. "He can't." Bobby and Lester laugh while I glare at him. It's the never ending struggle between us; I duck paperwork as fast as he does then we fight to see who's going to finish it. I usually win.

"Steph, I have some ideas for accomplishing some of this," Hal says. I'm glad to see Hal step up. "A lot of the work could be streamlined and I think if we put the right processes into place we can make a lot of this flow easier."

"Yeah, well, you two talk about that later. Let's start discussing the financial picture. Gentlemen, and Babe, please understand that branch finances are not to be discussed with other branches. I'm sure you recognize that some of your fellow XOs are nosy bastards. This is your information. Keep it to yourself. Steph, we've already given you the deal on company finances and we'll cover those separately with you later."

We review the finances of RangeMan Trenton with Core Team Trenton and I can see the moment they figure out that we are barely operating in the black at this branch.

"I mean, this doesn't make any sense!" Manny exclaims. "Apprehensions alone bring in millions of dollars! How can we be treading water here?"

The Core Team is quiet. We **all** know why. . . thanks to Tank. But it's surprising who answers the question for him.

"Me. I'm the problem," Babe says quietly. Ram, Manny, and Hal look over at her in surprise. "If you take the number of 'situations' I've had in the past year and put dollar amounts to them, you'll see the red ink." Ram leaves and returns with the Bomber file. The new Core Team looks at the monthly numbers and references them against Steph's 'incidents' and, sure enough, there's the missing money. They look at each other quietly then look at Steph. No one is quite sure what to say.

"I figured this out when I looked at the calendars you created, Hal. I've had time to come to terms with how much I've cost Ranger, RangeMan, and this branch and I'm sorry. It's part of the reason why I gave you the authority over my security. I've already cost too much and I love this company and all the guys. I don't want to be the reason they don't have jobs. I have to be a part of fixing this."

I love my woman.

* * *

**Manny's POV**

Well, this is a. . . I don't even know what to call it. We're getting a branch that's barely operating in the black and my instincts are telling me that there a bigger story here that I'm **not** going to get the answers to.

In all the time I've worked here, I've never once considered how much it costs when we rescue Wifey but I can see that she pretty damn expensive. This is an extremely profitable branch. Our range is from Philly to Newark and all points in between and yet Wifey's 'situations' are bleeding us dry. How can one woman bleed a branch taking in more than $40 million dollars a year?

According to the projections, our share of the overall company reserves is $15 million, so that leaves $25 million dollars. The branch reserves, which are supposed to stay constant at 20%, i.e. $5 million, are fine but operating cash flow is barely holding on after salaries, insurance, cars, etc. _Misericordioso Dios del cielo!_ (Merciful God in Heaven!). This explains why there was so much tension between members of the Core Team during the break-ins and is another reason Ranger was so desperate to get it solved quickly; with the branch already operating at the wire, the possibility of the break-ins being an inside job had to be _frightening_.

I'm reading back through the Bomber files, matching situations with dollar amounts. Hal passes Wifey a box of Kleenex while Ram grabs more sandwiches and water. He makes a call and soon after Ella arrives with a piece of chocolate cake. The core team smiles at this and Steph looks both happy and miserable. "I don't see it. It's Sunday. Diet starts tomorrow. Besides, I'm betting you didn't tell Ranger that your Mom demanded your presence at dinner tonight, so you have a vat of gravy to look forward to anyway. You too, Bobby." Ram smiles an evil smile as Ranger and Bobby both cringe.

"Yeah well, while you're laughing, I told Mom to expect everyone here plus Zero for dinner tonight. No black. By the way, can you call him and tell him? No arguments."

Everyone looks at her horrified. Why on earth would she do that?

"Mom loves Bobby." Bobby shudders and cringes. "No, she liked you because 'he's honest and respectful and he knows the medical information. That's who I want to talk to. I won't yell at him.'" She mimics her mother's voice and we laugh as Bobby shakes his head and smiles. "You're her favorite RangeMan. 'And he has a normal nickname'." More laughter.

"But seriously, she knows Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Bobby and now that she's grown accustomed to them and likes Bobby, it's not going to be easy to tell her that for the next year I'm running the company and none of the people she's accustomed to seeing with me are going to be here. I thought it would be best to get it over with in one night. Take the people she already knows along with the people who will be taking over **and** the new medic in charge here so she can ask all her questions at once. Otherwise, I'll have to deal with constant questions about where all of you are and when you are going to show up to meet her and Dad."

Bobby sighs. "Bomber, I hate to ask, but…"

"She's having a get together with her friends in my apartment tonight. I told Mom not to breathe a word of our visit to her." Every man in the room exhales. "If I spot Grandma, we leave." Ram calls Zero and gives him the heads up. We can hear Zero asking about Granny Mazur.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I still need an answer on what I'm supposed to tell her about your wanger, though. She asked every day." Bobby cringes again as Tank and Lester laugh. The rest of us are confused.

"Believe me," Tank says, "you don't want to know."

Finally, I'm done reviewing the file and I look at Wifey. "Steph, a quick look at the file shows that the most expensive 'incidents' happened when you were trying to gather intel on someone and were snatched and held. That's when every man at the branch was out there trying to rescue you. That happened 6 times last year. The next most expensive happened when a RangeMan was hurt with you in the field. I'd have to review the reports but I'd take a guess that they were more concerned with assuring your safety than their own and were shot, punched, stunned, or otherwise subdued by the skip or whoever you were going after. That costs us in short-term disability, physical therapy time, workman's comp claims, and contract workers. I see 9 of those incidents."

I see Wifey cringing more and more. It's adding up. Worse, most of these guys are from my department and I remember each incident in detail as I cross reference the month, the person, and the Bomber file. No wonder I'm always short-staffed. No need to give her that much detail though. She already feels guilty enough. "I don't want to make you feel bad Steph but basically these incidents come when you're either out there on your own or when you're trying to manage a takedown." I smile and try to infuse my voice with some cheer. "But…you've already given us your promise that you would accept a RangeMan partner, so that's settled. And part of your life for the next year is working on the skills necessary to become a total bad-ass. So I don't see this as a continuing problem. Do you?" I clearly failed.

"I won't be chained to a desk pushing paper for everyone else."

"Damn," Hal says. We all laugh.

"I never expected you would Steph. I didn't even suggest it. What I am saying is that since you will have an official partner, probably Hal or me, and we'll be working on your skills, I don't expect this situation to continue. We'll have this branch back in the black in no time." We really will. Four months alone should do it and if I can convince Hal and Ram to run point with me to keep her out the field until her takedown skills are better, we should be able to keep her out the field for at least 6-8 months. Yeah, that's how I'll do it. RangeMan standards.

"So, here's the deal. We're working with you to meet RangeMan standards over the next few months. According to SOPs, each man in the field has to meet RangeMan standards before he can return to active duty in the field. As CO, you have to lead this charge. The moment you meet standards, you and I are out chasing skips. I'll give you a pass on distractions because there aren't any SOPs for that. We good?" I can't grin, I can't grin. I've got her cornered and she knows it.

This is the world's longest silence and I will not break.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Manny has me cornered and I don't see a possible way around it. I see how this is going to go. For the next few months the guys are going to throw "RangeMan Standards" in my face every moment because as CO I cannot be seen to break them. Bend yes, break no. Worse yet, I can't rewrite them because that would be seen as writing them to favor myself. I have to meet them.

Damn Ranger. Damn his confidence in me. Damn Tank, Lester and Bobby. If they had not said please, I never would have agreed.

I hate Thomas Mann. If not for him I wouldn't have a broken leg, I wouldn't be chained to RangeMan and I would have choices. I don't have any options right now. If I don't come up with a way to work around this they'll chain me to a desk. Problem is they're absolutely right on the assessment. I wonder what those standards are based on?

"Agreed, Manny. The **moment** I meet standards I'm back out in the field."

"Great! Besides, I don't want to be stuck pushing paper either. Whatever you and Hal have in mind, get that going quick so we can all stay out in the field."

We all laugh, but I'm still thinking about this standards thing. I'm betting they're military standards and I know the military has different standards for women than for men. If they're Special Forces standards, I might be screwed. I'm going to check on that. If RangeMan standards are based on male military standards, then there's no conflict of interest in stating that I will meet female military standards. I'm still meeting military standards, just those for my sex.

I may have a solution here. It sucks as a solution, but it's a start.

Tank continues to run down the financial picture for RangeMan Trenton. If you remove my 'incidents' from the picture, the branch is very healthy. The works is pretty diversified; personal body guarding, private investigations, bonds enforcement, client services (i.e. armed guards), and residential and commercial monitoring. He also reviews the daily agenda of work, noting each of the separate pulse checks and mandatory meetings.

I learn that the company headquarters is really based in Miami, for tax and business reasons. So the company accountants and lawyers are there. We have lawyers on retainer in every location and I'll need to arrange for them to come meet with me here within the week. Each XO submits a weekly accounting report and branch status report to me on Wednesday for review and approval by Friday. Time sheets and payroll are every week and while each XO approves his own time sheets and payroll, checks aren't issued until the CO or his designate give final approval.

None of this was on the calendars. This is just the work from Ranger and Tank; we haven't even begun to cover what Lester and Bobby are responsible for and I'm beginning to see a snow job. The Core Team had a meeting at 7:00 AM every morning, but since I don't have a Core Team, I don't have this meeting, or so I think. Tank tells me that we will have that meeting so they can update me on the progress of the San Antonio office and give me any orders or information and if I need to tell them something, this would be the best time to tell them.

"Ranger, there's no way that you and Tank were doing all this. It's not possible for one person to do this on their own." I want to cry from the amount of work I see in front of me. How in the hell did Ranger ever manage to get into the field with all this going on?

Ranger rubs my hands. "Sorry Babe, but it's the truth. This **is** what Tank and I have every week. This is what keeps the company successful."

RangeMan is successful and it's now my job to ensure it remains successful. I've agreed to do this so I have to buckle down and get it done. I wonder what Hal has in mind to make this move easier but I know that getting the SharePoint site implemented will go on the top of my priority list. I need all the help I can get because I can see my day is going to run from 7AM to 7PM and my eyes are starting to cross from the amount of information I'm being presented.

I look around and see I'm not the only one. Ram, Manny, and Hal look like they need a break. It's now 4:30 and I need time to get ready for dinner at Mom's. Time to call this quits for the evening.


	11. Plum Dinner Fun, Part II

**A/N: I have a Beta! Everyone, make sure you send brownc0at a PM to thank her for her excellent beta work! As a treat, I'll post the second half of this chapter tomorrow!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Plum Dinner Fun, Part II**

**Bobby's POV**

At 1745, we pull up to the Plum family domicile. The curtains in every surrounding house start fluttering, and I'm sure that the word is out.

_An invasion force just pulled up to the Plums'! Everyone, come look! Lots of men with hard bodies just exited three SUVs! And Stephanie is being carried again! The rumors are true!_

Mrs. Plum stands alone on the front stoop. Her eyes widen when she sees us and I can see she's counting to make sure we've all arrived. She smiles when she sees me. I'm not sure when, where, or how I became her favorite RangeMan, but I'm not sure I'm happy with the designation. I like to limit my interaction with Mrs. Plum.

Yes, we're all here. The CO requested our presence. No arguments. No one is dressed in black SWAT; instead, we're all in dress slacks and black blazers. We brought wine and desserts from the Italian People's Bakery. I'm not sure who we're bribing but Bomber said her father is partial to desserts.

While Bomber was dressing for dinner, we revealed to the new RMTrenton Core that we've been running a psy-op on Bomber all week. Hal was astonished to learn that both his calendar and his one single question early this morning were the pivotal actions to tip Bomber over the edge at crucial points. Ram and Manny promised to take him out and get him some strippers for having the balls to ask about his responsibility for her and for opening negotiations over her safety and the standards. We told them to add some lap dances and get him completely shit-faced; send us the bill and take plenty of pictures. Hal blushed completely red but he deserves it; the man has developed admirable balls.

Lester then informed them of their new roles in the psy-op, which is to make sure Steph meets standards. Nothing more, nothing less, and they are not required to push her to do it. Motivate her, yes, push her, no. We will administer the assessment to release her back into the field so they can work her as hard or easy as necessary, but she is not to perform any field work until she meets standards. Not even surveillance. Besides, I need to see that she's going to come through and prove Lester right.

When Zero arrived, Lester informed every man that this dinner was important. We have to look less scary to the parents. Serious, but not scary. The CO doesn't need drama with her mama. We don't need visits to Haywood from Mrs. Plum or Mrs. Mazur. Everyone is to pull forth his most charming manners tonight and be willing to talk. Mrs. Plum needs to feel that we will take care of her daughter or she'll muck up Lester's plans.

We will follow the plan. The threat of Grandma Mazur duty ensured complete cooperation.

Ranger is leading the charge with Bomber in his arms. Mrs. Plum quickly opens the door to the house and we step inside. It's calm. No Kloughns, no Edna Mazur. I can feel the gust of wind as every man exhales and relaxes. We might make it. It might be OK.

"Gentlemen, good evening. Bobby, it's good to see you again." Mrs. Plum is all smiles at me. Maybe I was too charming last week. I can feel Tank holding back laughter again. Mr. Plum pats his daughter on the shoulder. Warm family greetings.

"Mrs. Plum, thank you for your invitation to dinner. It's nice to get a home cooked meal. Please accept these gifts from us in appreciation." Southern boy. Raised right. I know my manners. Lester is writing the thank-you card tomorrow. Mrs. Plum is all smiles and she passes the wine and dessert to her husband. He grins to see the logo of IPB on the box.

"Ranger, here, place Stephanie in the chair. You don't need to hold her all night." This is weird. It's almost as if Mrs. Plum has been replaced by a pod person. A pod person that's desperate to be nice to us. Ranger places Bomber in the chair closest to her mother and we file around the table and take a seat. I get the chair across from Bomber, next to her mother.

"Mom, I know you have already met Ranger, Bobby, Tank and Lester," we each wave to her, "but I brought some new guys with me. I'd like you to meet Henry 'Hal' Linden, Manuel 'Manny' Sanchez, Ramsay 'Ram' Sinclair, and Angelo 'Zero' Giordano." Each man waves at Mrs. Plum and nods to Mr. Plum. Mr. Plum casts a sharp-eyed view at Zero.

"_Nessuna relazione a Giuseppe Giordano oltre a Ewing sei_?" (Any relation to Giuseppe Giordano over in Ewing?)

"_Distante, signore, da parte di mio padre. Noi in realtà non hanno molto a che fare con lui._" (Distant, sir, on my father's side. We don't really have much to do with him.)

Mr. Plum smiles. I don't speak Italian, so I have no idea what just happened.

Mrs. Plum begins loading the table with dinner, shushing our offers to help. Dinner tonight is almost the same as last week: Roast chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. On the other hand the asparagus, broccoli and cauliflower mix is steamed, there's a huge salad (with cheese and croutons, but I see the effort) and the green beans aren't limp. Still overcooked but salvageable.

Pod Mom makes me nervous. Every man here who's sat through a Plum family dinner sees that this is new terrain. She's smiled at us all evening. She's acknowledged we exist. She's serving us a meal more in line with our dietary requirements. Is it poisoned? She doesn't have a whisky glass in front of her. Even Steph looks a little confused.

"This looks great Mom. Thanks." Steph reaches for the mashed potatoes and the spell is broken. Just about every man at the table, minus Mr. Plum, reaches for salad and we start passing that down the line. Without Mrs. Mazur here, Mr. Plum is relaxed. He's chatting with Zero in Italian, looking up from his plate, involved in dinner. Both Steph and Mrs. Plum are stunned.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You're speaking at the dinner table."

"Yes Pumpkin." Mr. Plum looks confused at first but then he grins. "Edna's not here and men outnumber women at this table 4 to 1. It's never happened before. There's finally some testosterone here. Kloughn doesn't count, and Morelli and Ranger by themselves couldn't make up the deficit. I can relax and enjoy my meal."

We don't mean to. We just can't help it. Every man at the table bursts into laughter.

* * *

It's actually not a bad dinner. We're stuffed, but every man takes a bit of dessert, except Ranger. No one has mentioned the reason for the invasion force, but finally I nudge Ranger under the table. He needs to start.

"Mrs. Plum, Mr. Plum, we actually have some news to tell you." Mrs. Plum sits up interestedly, and Mr. Plum looks wary. "In a few days I'm heading back out on an assignment so I won't be at RangeMan over the next year. Bobby, Tank, and Lester are headed to San Antonio to open a new office, so they will also be unavailable over the next year."

I can feel Mrs. Plum getting ready to. . . I'm not quite sure, but she's not happy.

"The reason we brought all the guys tonight is so you could meet the men that Stephanie will be working with over the next year. Hal, Ram, and Manny are taking over leadership of RangeMan Trenton, and Zero is the new medic. He's been serving as second to Bobby all this time and he has the same privileges at the hospitals as Bobby, so he will be the one to contact you, Mrs. Plum. As for Stephanie, she has accepted a position within the company. For the next year, Stephanie will serve as the head of RangeMan."

You could hear a pin drop at the table. Zero didn't have that news yet, but the sharp look Ram sends him encourages him to rein in the happiness at the table.

Mrs. Plum slumps back in her seat. Mr. Plum looks at Hal, Ram, and Manny then nods sharply.

"Which one of you is in charge?" They're not quite sure how to answer that question.

"Technically, sir, Stephanie is the new Ranger. I serve as her second, the new Tank," Hal replies. It's a good answer. Mr. Plum looks completely stunned. He looks at Ranger.

"You mean to tell me you are leaving your company in the hands of my daughter for the next year?"

"Yes." Ranger replies. Mrs. Plum is still too shocked to say anything.

"And you, Hal, you're the next in line?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Plum looks at Zero. "And you're the new Bobby?" No, he is not the new Bobby. I am Bobby. There can only be one.

"Yes."

"What kind of medical credentials do you have?" Ah, Mrs. Plum has arisen and is looking at Zero suspiciously.

"I am a medic, ma'am, and a licensed physician assistant."

"Does that mean you have medical training?"

"Yes, ma'am. I am considered a medical professional and I hold an independent medical license. Physician assistants are nominally supervised by a physician, and that's the reason why we have such a good relationship with St. Francis; we pick our supervising physicians from their ranks. That and we pay our bills quickly," Zero says, smiling as charmingly as he can.

Mrs. Plum is still looking at him suspiciously. She turns to me. "Do you feel comfortable leaving him in charge?"

Huh? You care about my opinion? "I wouldn't let him anywhere near Stephanie if I didn't have complete confidence that he would treat her as well, if not better, than I would," I reply. If she cares about my opinion, I'll give her a good one.

"Is this the same training and credentials you have?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fine. Then I'm convinced that she's being left in good medical hands. Angelo, when something happens we want to be informed. We don't have to know everything, but we do want to know where she is and that she's safe and alive. After that, your job is to make sure she calls us. Agreed?"

"Yes, ma'am." Zero looks a little surprised, but honestly he's getting off easy.

"I just don't know about this job. Stephanie, exactly what are you going to be doing? Does this mean that you aren't going to be a bounty hunter anymore? Please tell me you aren't going to be a bounty hunter anymore."

"Helen, I don't think that's any of our business."

"Wrong! It is our business. For four years these men have ridden to our daughter's rescue every time she's gotten in over her head." I can see Steph cringe, but hell, her mother's right. "I'm accustomed to Ranger coming and going, but not the others. Now they're all here telling me that they're all leaving, they're leaving her in charge, and they're leaving some new people, who we are just now meeting, in their place? I think I have an absolute right to know what's going on!"

"Mom, stop! Ranger has just given you all the information you need. He has an assignment. Bobby, Tank and Lester are opening up a new office. What more do you need to know?"

"Why you? Why leave you in charge?"

Ranger is ready to cut off this line of questioning, which is good because I am too. It took a lot to convince me, and I don't need the doubts right now. "Mrs. Plum, Stephanie is one of the few people in this world I would leave behind in charge of my business. She has a degree in business and experience as a buyer so she understands the financials. She understands and has worked almost every job in my business, so my men are accustomed to seeing her and know that she knows how to do their job. And I trust her judgment. A few months ago, Stephanie helped save my business. We were having a rash of robberies and Stephanie figured out who the perpetrators were. Her work led the DA to convictions in every case. Your daughter is a good detective and businesswoman. I trust her to run the company well. And even though Tank, Lester, and Bobby will not physically be in Trenton, they are available to her by phone if she needs help. She has Ram, Manny, and Hal to help her here. I think she can do this job. Otherwise I would not leave her here in charge."

Mrs. Plum sits back and looks at Stephanie and Ranger. I can tell she's not convinced. She glances down at her husband, who shakes his head once, and finally she sighs. "Fine, Ranger. If you believe Stephanie can do the job I will not argue with you. I simply ask that we see her once a week for dinner. I don't think that's too much to ask."

"Fine, Mom. I hate to ask but, since the guys will be accompanying me, is it possible to have the occasional meal without Grandma?"

Mrs. Plum looks indignant but after a while she relaxes. Mr. Plum is smiling at the thought. "Yes, Stephanie. I'll see what I can do. I can't say that I haven't enjoyed not having to hear about her latest stud-muffin or funeral home viewing. It would be nice to have that not be a topic of conversation at least once a week." Lucky fuckers! They're getting off easy.

The rest of dinner passes calmly. When Mrs. Plum starts catching Bomber up on the latest 'Burg gossip, Mr. Plum motions for all of us to follow him.

"Where are you going?"

"Garage. Cigars." Hell yeah. Nice. Men time alone. I really like Mr. Plum. We'll hear all the 'Burg gossip from Bomber later.

We're all settled in the garage and I'm making a mental note to tell Lester to send a box of cigars to Mr. Plum with the thank-you note when Mr. Plum addresses us. Well, he's really addressing Ranger, but it's directed at all of us.

"I'm not my wife. I may not say much, but I'm definitely not stupid. I'll buy your explanation of why you're leaving Pumpkin in charge, but I have my own theory about what you're leaving out. You can nod yes or no."

Ranger nods. "My daughter has a broken leg. For the next three months she needs a job. You're giving her a job." Mr. Plum waits and Ranger nods. "After that you need a reason to keep her there. Putting her in charge does that." Another nod. "If she's in charge she has to meet your requirements, which means she finally gets the training she's needed for 4 years." Another nod. "I'll bet she's been ducking this training for four years because it's intense but it's what she needs to do the job."

Another nod. Mr. Plum is racking 'em up. The man is not stupid. He's figured all this out over the course of one meal. "Until she meets your requirements, she can't bounty hunt." Nods from every man in the garage. Mr. Plum is surprised, and then he grins. "How long will it take for her to reach requirements?"

"I'm guessing at least 6-8 months. Her leg has to heal first. She's motivated not to be stuck behind a desk," Lester replies.

"Sweet Jesus, that's the best news I've gotten in a while. So for the next 6-8 months, there's no bounty hunting?" Nods. "And you introduced your men as the new heads of RangeMan Trenton but Stephanie as the head of RangeMan, so she's taking over as the head of all your RangeMan offices?" Ranger has narrowed his eyes at Mr. Plum, but he nods. Yes. We've underestimated Mr. Plum for far too long. "How many are there?"

"Five. Miami, Atlanta, New York, Trenton, and Boston."

"She'll be buried in paperwork." Mr. Plum is visibly thrilled. "Only one other thing I need to know: is she staying in one of your apartments?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then Ranger, on behalf of my wife and myself, I owe you a bottle of something wonderful. Edna out my damn house, my daughter chained to a desk and no more alley stories for an entire year!" Ranger's face goes pale. "Yes, son, I know about that damn alley, and all I have to say is that, when you return, if my daughter is back in that alley I'll be after you with a shotgun. The Morelli boy called it off, so make a move or leave her alone. _Capiche_?" Every man hides a smile. I actually think Mr. Plum is pretty damn serious.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let's enjoy our cigars and the lack of Edna."

Couldn't have said it better myself.


	12. Small Miracles

**A/N: This is the second half of Plum Dinner Fun, Part II.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Small Miracles**

**Steph's POV**

I'm stranded. I can't go have a cigar, so I have to face the inquisition alone.

"I'm not fully buying that he can't find anyone else to run his business, but if he's chosen you I'll accept it. You didn't answer my question about bounty hunting. Are you still a bounty hunter?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm still a bounty hunter but until my leg heals, I can't do the job. And since Ranger left me in charge, I have to meet the requirements of his company before I'm cleared to bounty hunt."

My mother puts down her glass. I notice that she hasn't had a drink all night. "What does that mean? Does that mean they have to train you?"

"Yes, I have to pass the requirements for fitness, weapons, and hand to hand combat before I can bounty hunt again." I know I sound miserable, but I can't help it. I see months of exercise looming in front of me. My mother, however, looks thrilled.

"You're getting training? That's wonderful, Stephanie! You should take advantage of learning as much as you can over the next few months. Let them teach you everything."

What the hell! "Mom, I thought you hated my job! You complain about it all the time. You've never had anything good to say, even when I've done helpful stuff."

"Stephanie, I don't like your job, but you do. You've kept going for four years. What I didn't like was the fact that you refused to do it safely. That's all I ever wanted, for you to be safe. I'm tired of getting calls about your cars getting blown up and you getting shot or kidnapped. If you learn to do the job safely, I don't have anything I can really say about it, other than I can't wait for the day you quit. Take this opportunity to learn as much as you can from the men around you. I'm sure they can teach you things. If you're going to go after dangerous people, I want you to do it as safely as possible."

I'm stunned by this complete change in attitude. She hates my job! She's always hated my job! Now she's telling me. . . she's telling me. . . she hates my job because of the way I do my job, which is unfair because I do my job just fine. . . except I don't. . . and the financial problems at RangeMan Trenton tell the tale.

"Stephanie, look at me." I glance up to see my mother looking at me, worried. She's placed another piece of chocolate silk pie in front of me. "Your father and I had a talk about you, and it led me to think about some things. I do care about you and what happens to you, Stephanie. All I want is for you to be happy and safe. I still think you would be happier married and settled, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. In the meantime, I'm happy that you'll get some training to learn to do this job. And I made a promise to myself that I would start giving the RangeMen a chance."

I'm shocked to hear her say that, and my face shows it. Mom looks at her glass then back at me. "For four years they've ridden after you when you're in trouble. They partner you when you need help. They serve as bodyguards when you're in trouble. Ranger loans you cars when you need them. It's obvious that they either follow orders really well or they care, and for the next year it looks like you're their boss. Men in fields like that won't follow someone they don't respect, so I have to accept that they must like you. I've always held back from approving of them because Joseph said that the RangeMen were a bunch of ex-cons and ex-gang members, but he also said that there were some ex-military men in there too."

I should have known. Joe never has anything positive to say about the Merry Men. Or Ranger.

"Whatever the case, I think he might have been a little jealous, but I used that knowledge to treat them like thugs in my home and that was uncalled for, especially when they were putting their lives on the line to protect yours. So just know that any RangeMan who steps into this house from now on will be treated with respect. I don't want you or them to think that I won't treat them with respect when you come for dinner. And I'll try to make more things they can eat, if you tell me what those are. I notice Ranger rarely eats most of the things I serve."

Wow. This is really. . . shocking. . . I think that's the word I want to use.

"Are you going to continue living at RangeMan?"

"Yes. I still have the physical therapy to do, and Ranger said that the job is pretty demanding. I'll be on call all the time. And we both agreed that Dad would appreciate not having Grandma in the house for a year." Mom smiles.

"Stephanie, I'll appreciate not having Mother in the house for a year. By the way, can we get a key? The night you broke your leg your father went by your apartment, but neither he nor Dillon had a key to get in. If Mother is going to stay there for the next year, I want to be able to get in."

"Sure. I think Ranger probably has the extra. Or Tank. I'll ask them to have a copy made and brought over here."

The rest of the visit is spent listening to family gossip. The guys come back in smelling of really good cigars. Lucky.

* * *

We're in the car when I notice that Ranger hasn't said a word and he looks pale.

"Everything OK?"

"No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." Ranger is quiet. "Your father told me that if, when I return, we end up in the alley behind the Bonds Office he would take a shotgun to me." Daddy knows? Oh god, that's embarrassing.

"Not a threat. Dad doesn't have one."

Ranger looks at me then turns back to the road. "Not the point, Babe. I got the meaning, and I can't say I blame him. If I ever heard rumors about some boy and Julie they could dredge the Atlantic and never find him. I just wish that wasn't the impression I'd given your father."

I reach for his hand and he takes mine. We don't let go for the rest of the night.

* * *

**Frank's POV**

I might have to go to Mass tomorrow. They say prayer changes things, and it seems mine have finally been answered. I meant what I said in the garage; I'm a hell of a lot smarter than I look. I'm just quiet, that all. I see a lot of myself in Ranger, which is why his treatment of my daughter pisses me off, but she's a grown woman. She has to handle that; I can't jump in for her. Ranger would be perfect if he were Italian. That's Morelli's saving grace with me but if he touches the last of my desserts again, I'll take his hand off.

I walk into the kitchen after Pumpkin and the RangeMen leave. Helen is washing the last of the dinner dishes. I pick up a dish towel and begin to dry. She knows that I have things to say when I actually help.

"What did you learn?" she asks. I smile, and she smiles back. My wife is still beautiful after 36 years of marriage, even if she does nag just a bit too much.

"What did she tell you?" We've been playing this game for years.

"You first."

"I got a lot out of them. What little bit did she tell you?"

She purses her lips. Sorry dear, but those men have seen you as a nag for four years. It will take some time for them to learn to like or trust you, and it will never happen as long as you're pushing Morelli over Ranger. They're loyal to their boss. "Well, she says that she's still a bounty hunter, but she can't get back out into 'the field' until she meets the requirements of his company."

"She tell you how long that will take?"

"No." Helen looks at me suspiciously. I can't help but grin.

"Lester, the other Latino boy who comes here with her all the time, said he's estimating 6-8 months. Less if she's motivated, but regardless, she can't get back out there until they clear her." At this, Helen looks thrilled. She's guessed what I have: Pumpkin will be chained to a desk for months. "What else did she tell you?"

"She's going to continue to live at RangeMan. Ranger told her the job is strenuous and that she'll be on call. She's going to let Mother stay in her apartment." At this I nod. "That's really all I got. What did you learn? You're grinning like you can't wait to rub it in that you got so much more than me."

My grin is reaching epic levels. I did, my dear, I did. This is what happens when you keep your mouth shut.

"She needs a job while her leg heals, which is part of the reason why he's put her in charge. I'm guessing, just guessing here Helen, that three months is too long for Vinnie to be without a bounty hunter, so they expect Vinnie to toss her and they want her to get used to working at RangeMan." At this Helen is jumping up and down with excitement. She's hated Vinnie for as long as she's known him. Vinnie isn't my favorite cousin, but he gave my daughter a job when no one else would, so he stays on the Christmas card list.

"Making her the head of the company while everyone is gone means that she has to meet their standards because she has to be the example. If she were anything less than the head of the company, she might be able to walk away once her leg is healed, but putting her at the top means she can't walk away. Following me?" She nods, tears running down her cheeks. I know. This is great news. "Until they clear her, she's running the company. Did you know that there are five locations?"

Helen shakes her head, stunned. My lovely wife is short-sighted sometimes, or perhaps I should say that she's 'Burg focused'. In any case, she sees Ranger as a thug. I see a boy who handles dangerous men in the streets but who owns and runs the company. After all, it's his name on the door, RangeMan, none others. Quick internet search revealed he was a CEO of a major security firm. My respect level for him rose that day.

"Yup, five locations, Miami, Atlanta, New York, Boston and here. She'll be buried in paper, which is good because she'll get a chance to dust off those business skills and put them to work. If she does decide to leave RangeMan, she now has something besides E.E. Martin on her resume and since she ran the company in his absence, she's bankable again." Helen looks stunned now. Yes dear, this is all for the best, which is why I didn't want you to screw it up for her.

"Finally, she will be living at RangeMan, but I don't think it's so much for the on-call thing. That part I wasn't able to work out with certainty but I have two guesses. One, Ranger wants her safe and secure. Since neither he nor his men will be around to save her life if she gets in over her head, he's putting her in his apartment, in his building, which is staffed by armed security men."

Helen considers that, frowns, then nods. I can almost hear what she's thinking: 'My daughter is living in that building with a bunch of dangerous men! Everyone will be talking about it! She'll never be seen as a good girl again!' I don't care about that. She'll be safe. No one can get past the security of that building. Besides, she's been bouncing between Morelli and Ranger for years. Pumpkin has four years of alley stories to live down and I think the ship has sailed on thinking she's some sort of virginal good girl. I don't think my daughter is loose, not by a long shot, but I can see how that idea has been nurtured.

"Or it could be that he wants to be able to control her food intake. You've seen how they eat when they come here. That salad was demolished in minutes, but they barely touched the mashed potatoes or gravy and that's what Pumpkin reached for first. Putting her in the apartment with the housekeeper means he gets to control her diet. That way, his men won't start thinking it's OK to eat junk food just because the person at the top does." I see Helen consider this. I know she told Pumpkin to tell her what the RangeMen eat so she can fix meals in line with their dietary requirements, but I don't think she really grasped what that might mean. "Actually, now that I think about it, it might be both."

"And you got all of that out of watching them tonight?"

"No dear, I got all that out of watching them for four years. Ranger is a 'lead by example' sort of man. He doesn't ask his employees to do anything he won't do. So by putting Pumpkin in charge he's making her take her life and safety seriously. He's leaving her under the care and protection of his men, and they know to make sure that she's safe. And he's giving her time and space to figure out if she wants to be a part of this life. Putting her in his apartment and having her run his company gives her a chance to understand the man like she knows and understands Morelli. If it turns out to be too much for her, then she moves out and quits when the year is up. If she thinks she can take it on, then she's in his home when he comes home. It's not a bad plan." Actually, if I'm right, it's a brilliant plan.

Helen purses her lips and frowns. I go to our bedroom to prepare for bed and she joins me a short time later. I can tell she's been thinking about what we've discussed.

"Frank, what was with the Italian at dinner tonight?"

"Testing a theory. I had the feeling Ranger understood Italian from all the times he's looked amused when I've muttered under my breath, but he's trained not to give anything away. Tonight I was able to determine that both he and Tank understand Italian. There were times when I saw their lips move as if they were amused and when Angelo said something particularly funny they would look at each other."

"Do you know Angelo? Did you know Angelo before tonight?"

"No, I didn't, but I know his family. They're Mob on his father's side." At that Helen turns to me with wide eyes. I shrug. Hell, half of the Italians in this part of Jersey are related to the mob. I am, so I can't hold it against anyone. "He doesn't have anything to do with them, so I'm not worried."

We climb into bed and get comfortable. I know she has more questions. This has been my job for 36 years, to answer the questions as best I can. It's more guesswork than anything, but I'm good at it. It keeps my mind sharp.

"What do you really think of all this, Frank? It sounds too good to be true to me, but I want to believe it is good for Stephanie."

"Honestly, Helen, I don't know how this will play out in the end, because this is our daughter we're talking about. What I do know is this: Ranger has come through for her yet again. He's given her a job. He's providing her with training. Since neither he nor his top men in charge will be around for the next year, he's moved her into his building so that she has a secure home staffed by armed security men to see to her protection. He's gotten your mother out of our house so for the next year you and I can have our home to ourselves."

Personally I think this is Ranger's greatest feat and I can't help but smile at the thought. My bathroom is finally free and the old bat will be hanging around a lot less. Yes, I'm prepared to accept Ranger for this alone. "He'll be gone for a year so neither of us has to listen to alley stories. And Joseph Morelli has disappeared into thin air. I don't think Ranger has anything to do with it, that's not his style, but at the moment our daughter is alone in Trenton. Your job, my dear, is **not** to push any matrimonial candidates at her. Helen, let's be clear between us."

I sit up and turn on the light. She turns over and looks at me. "You barely know our daughter. **I **barely know our daughter. This isn't the same girl you railroaded into a marriage with Dickie Orr." With that, Helen makes a face. I can't say Dickie's name without wanting to reach for my pistol. "This Stephanie is older and. . .well, maybe not wiser, but she's different. The men you push at her are never going to be her choice and Joe has begged you not to interfere in their relationship anymore. I've never gotten involved in your plans for him and Pumpkin, but Helen, I heard that man's hurt when he called here. He has his pride. He loves her and needs to know that she loves him just as much. He wants to **know** in his heart that Pumpkin loves him with her whole heart and that she's with him because she can't be without him, not because she can't have Ranger or for some other reason."

Any man listening to Morelli on the phone that day would feel pain and sympathy for him. I haven't always liked Joseph Morelli (I would've run him over if Pumpkin hadn't beat me to it) but as a man, I understood and respected his request. "So let's try to take this next year to get to know Stephanie as an adult. Pumpkin is 32. She's an adult. We should have an adult relationship with her just like you have with Valerie. Valerie would never think to lie to you, but Pumpkin does it in a heartbeat because we never accept her choices and we question all her decisions. We may not like her decisions, hell, most of the time we don't, but like I said a few weeks ago, they're her decisions to make. So we need to try to accept that and work to make things better between us. I want to know that when I ask my daughter a question, I don't have to watch her for a 'tell' that she's lying. Agreed?"

Helen screws her lips up and frowns again. She doesn't want to accept not pushing suitors at Pumpkin. Helen wants her married and having babies as soon as possible. I want grandchildren too (well, grandsons. Valerie's done an excellent job providing me with more than enough granddaughters) but I want my daughter to be happy more than anything else. "You're right, Frank. Agreed." I'm kicked in the shins under the covers, and Helen gives me an innocent look. I smile and accept my punishment.

I think I'll catch the early Mass tomorrow. I have a few things to pray about.


	13. Surprise!

**Chapter 12: Surprise!**

**Hal's POV**

On the way from Haywood to the Plum's last night I got a call from Junior telling me that all the XOs from around the company had arrived at Haywood and were looking around for Tank. I told him to put them in Conference 3 and I would inform Tank. Tank said to call Junior back and tell all of them to go back to their hotels and return to Haywood by 0800 the next morning. I went home, got a good night's sleep and prepared for the first day of the rest of my life.

At 0500 the email hit. The news of our promotions was now public, and by the time I arrived at 0650 I had 12 congratulations emails in my box from the overnight guys. This was going to be interesting. The news about Steph's promotion wasn't there yet so I assumed they intended to tell the XOs first then send out a company-wide email. This was going to be a fun day.

I hit the floor, and before I could say anything every man on the floor stood up and came to attention.

Junior: "Hal, on behalf of RangeMan Trenton, we want to be the first to congratulate you on your promotion to XO. Hip Hip—"

"**Hooray!**" The guys start cheering, chanting my name, and partying at their stations. I could get used to this. I smile and motion for everyone to return to their seats. Junior comes over, shakes my hand and slaps my back. Ouch.

"Seriously dude, congrats. How's it been so far?"

"Junior, I swear, I will never question a thing Tank says ever again. How he does the work solo I'll never understand. It took both me and Ram to do it last week. Believe me, Manny, Ram and I are ready to dig in, but we are going to make some changes. I will say though, you haven't heard the last of the news." I smile. "There's bigger news coming." Junior lifts an eyebrow, smiles, and walks back to his seat. I know my partner. He'll spend all morning making a list of likely possibilities. "Hey, I may leave the floor for a minute, so if I'm not here when the other XOs arrive can you direct them back to Conference 3? And keep them out of Conference 2?"

"No problem. Mark's a nosy bastard, isn't he? He kept trying to poke around the office and was asking everyone questions about what was going on here last week."

"Really? Thanks for telling me." I mean that. Nosy git. This isn't your branch, Mark. It's now **mine**.

I walk to Tank's office, which should now be mine except Steph and I are in disagreement about that. I want the XO's office because it's closer to the floor and because it's Tank's. Just pass the office from XO to XO. She just doesn't want to take Ranger's office, but that's the appropriate place. She's CO; that's her office. Besides, it's not like Ranger's going to be using it for the next year. Ram and Manny are moving into Bobby's and Lester's offices so she's gotta go somewhere.

And honestly. . . Ranger's office intimidates me. I don't want it. It signifies a bit too much authority.

I'm sitting behind Tank's desk, enjoying his chair (No way am I giving this up to Bombshell. She can have the office if I can keep the chair) when the door is opened and someone walks inside. Tall, maybe 6'2", sandy blonde hair, grey eyes. He reminds me of 'Iceman' from _Top Gun_ so this must be Mark from Boston. I've seen his picture but I'm pretty sure he's never met me. Time to set some boundaries.

"Hi, I'm Mark. You must be Hal. Nice to meet you, and welcome to the XOs club." Really? Pretentious clown. We aren't buddy-buddy. I just met you.

"Yes, I'm Hal. Take a seat." I give him a moment to get comfortable before I hit him. "Is there something that you need, Mark? Any questions that I can answer for you?"

He smiles. He really thinks I'm going to talk to him. "Yeah. Trenton's been the talk of the company for a week. What's been going on down here? I meant it when I said you could call me if you had any questions or needed help."

I just met him and I don't like him. "Actually, that wasn't what I meant, but I'll address that first. Thank you for the offer of assistance. I may take you up on it later, but it was unnecessary. If I had questions or concerns, I had Tank one floor down to ask." He's still smiling but not as brightly as a moment ago. "As for what was going on, that was applicable to RangeMan Trenton. Your constant calls last week were more a hindrance to the efficient running of this office than they were a help to me. In future, if I need help, I'll call. Otherwise, you may assume I have it under control."

The smile is gone; the blank face is in place. Good. Now for the _coup de grâce_. "This morning I received a report that you were asking the men what was going on and attempting to enter unauthorized spaces. I do not appreciate that. It was an insult to me and to Tank for you to attempt to go poking around this office without my knowledge or approval, unless you had his?" Silence. Yeah, I thought not. "And in future, you can address your questions about this branch to management. We will be the only ones authorized to answer them, and the men here are not accustomed to divulging information without authorization. Ram is the official liaison, so if I'm unable or unavailable to answer you can address your questions to him. We clear?"

I've pissed him off, but I don't care. I wouldn't dare go up to Boston and act the way he did here and he better never do it again. I decide, in the interest of not alienating my new colleague, to throw him a bone. I smile. "So, let's hit the break room and grab a muffin, and you can tell me what I should expect in my first week as XO. That's information I can't get from Tank."

* * *

Mark's made it clear he doesn't like me but the other XOs are reserving opinion. Danny from Atlanta pulled me to the side to congratulate me and said that they'd all gone through that with Mark. Evidently he believes he should be in Leadership Core because of the number of times they've called him in to run other offices and take charge when they're away. He's a good guy but too nosy and thinks he should be involved in everything. Man, Steph's elevation is gonna give him a heart attack.

Javier from NYC and Armando from Miami don't say much. They just watch everyone very quietly. By the time Leadership Core walks in with Steph, the tension in the room is high. Clearly Mark expects to be told that he's taking over as head again and, judging from the body language, Javier and Armando are not looking forward to that.

Ranger is in control of this meeting. "Gentleman, sit please. First, I would like to introduce Hal, who is the new XO of Trenton. Take time to congratulate him and offer him the benefit of your experience. Hal, there's over 20 years experience in this room so use it wisely." I nod. I intend to. Mark sparingly. "Second, let me introduce Stephanie Plum. Gentleman, Ms. Plum will be taking over as CO for the next year."

Javier and Armando drop their pens. Danny looks completely shocked. Mark has gone completely red. I'm smiling like a loon. Steph is at the front of the room with Ranger, in SWAT black, her leg propped up on a chair. She looks calm but nervous. Tank, Bobby and Lester are spaced equally around the table, smiling.

"Let me be clear. Ms. Plum is not an 'Acting CO'. She is the CO. She has my complete confidence and is invested with my authority. The decision to elevate her was a unanimous decision of the Leadership Core team. I expect that you will give her every assistance in carrying out her duties. Her decisions and her judgments are the same as if I had given you the order. If you have a problem with this, tell me now."

* * *

**Mark's POV**

I'm too shocked to say shit. We have a SMACK (_Soldier Minus Ability, Coordination, and Knowledge_) in charge of the company. Ranger's rumored personal piece of snatch is now my fucking boss. This shit is unreal. I'm hoping this is a joke. I'm certain in a moment, he'll laugh, say it was a joke, and elevate me to run the other branches while the Core Leadership team go effects a coup in some fucking 'Stan.

Under normal circumstances, I might like a man like Hal. He basically told me to piss off in his branch. Not many men have that kind of guts on the first day. But there's something else going on at this branch and I'm going to find out what it is. The financials will probably give me the best idea because I've looked everywhere else. I have my money ready and I'm prepared to buy a partnership in this company. I just need to know that the investment I'm making is sound.

Come on Ranger, laugh. Tell me I'm in charge. Don't do this insanely stupid shit. . .

* * *

**Javier's POV**

Well, this answers a lot of questions. They were interviewing their replacements. I guessed this; I just didn't guess the girlfriend taking over the company part. Well, it can't be any worse than having Mark in charge. Nosy bastard. If he comes to my office again trying to take over, I'll give him a new meaning for "fly boy."

It'll be interesting working with her. I heard she's good, just sloppy. And she ain't that bad to look at. Heard she's good at 'distractions' and judging by what I can see, it makes sense. . . hmm. . . I could use her in NYC every night of the week with those looks. . . then again, with the way Ranger is looking at me right now, maybe not.

* * *

**Armando's POV**

That answered a lot of questions. They were interviewing replacements in advance of opening a new office. The procedure for doing it was new but it made complete sense. Diego guessed this; we just didn't guess the girlfriend taking over the company part. I can't wait to call and tell him. Well, it can't be any worse than having Mark in charge. Nosy bastard.

Assuming what I've heard about her is true, if she comes to Miami with her current level of skills, I'm going to have a problem. My men are all _machismo_. Women have a certain place and bounty hunting damn sure isn't it. She can't come to Miami and be a disaster like we've heard she is up here. An amusing disaster but a disaster nonetheless. Now, how do I tell Ranger that without pissing him off?

At least she ain't bad to look at. I wonder if I can get her to tell me about the Boxster and the garbage truck. . . and the stolen BMW. That's still classic back home.

* * *

**Danny's POV**

**HAHAHAHAHAHAHA**! Mark looks ready to piss himself! This is great. They can put the girlfriend in charge more often, just for the joy of watching Mark have an aneurysm. Fucker came down here thinking they were going to put him in charge and not only did they not put him in charge, they elevated the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, all SMACK, to lead the company. This is great. Oh God, thank you. This makes up for the shitty flight from Atlanta.

Now, who's going to be advising her? I would guess the Trenton guys; she'll trust them from the start and the rest of us will have to get into her good books. Well, hopefully I made a decent start with Hal, the new XO here, but I won't leave without making sure she knows she can call on me at any time. Perhaps I should ask her to come visit the Atlanta office first so she gets a feel for how things are run elsewhere. . . yeah, that's a good plan. I'll do that. She may be a SMACK now, but there has to be some reason they elevated her. No chick's that good in the sack that you just hand over a multi-million dollar company to her without her having some skills. . . maybe she's a so-so bounty hunter but a better business woman? Whatever the reason, the entire Leadership Core is backing this move so there's something about Ms. Plum we don't know yet. I intend to find out what it is.

* * *

**Hal's POV**

I really want to see if any of the men will be so stupid as to open their mouths, but no one is. That's not to say that they're pleased. Every man in this company has heard "Bombshell tales" and I'm certain they have those going through their heads right now. The prospect of the most accident prone bounty hunter on the East Coast running the company must be a nightmare.

However, I've worked with Steph for two years and I know those Bombshell tales only tell part of the story. They don't cover her bravery, her loyalty, her willingness to put herself in danger for us. They don't cover the fact that she treats every man in this building as if he's an honorable person and a worthwhile member of society. So I don't see any man at RM Trenton having a problem with Steph's elevation. She's got infallible instincts. I trust her with my life, just not my stun gun. The Core Team trusts her. Every man in this building trusts her; we've just learned to expect the unexpected now. Ranger trusts her. That's all I need to know.

"Congratulations, Steph! I still want Tank's office, and I claim the chair."

Steph laughs, a wonderful sound any day of the week. Down, boy. "Office is still under negotiation, Hal. You can have the chair."

Ranger raises an eyebrow, but he looks somewhat amused. "Hearing no questions, next week, Bobby, Tank, and Lester are headed to San Antonio to open a new office. You will receive a list of men they would prefer to take with them. Each man has the option of going, and if we cannot get all the men needed, we will open the posting up for volunteers. As they fill the positions in Texas, your men will be rotated back in. Think of some contract workers you might want to bring in on a short-term basis to fill their roles. Any questions?" Nope. That was pretty clear. The other XOs are still in shock over Bombshell.

"Finally, I need to discuss my assignment with you. Hal, tell the bridge to stop monitoring this room and have Manny and Hector join us."

"They haven't been taping, sir. I told them to stop all monitoring at 0800." I assumed that whatever it was he had to tell us, he'd prefer kept private. I get a very small smile and a nod. Good. I'm starting off right. I call Junior and ask that he pull Manny and Hector in here ASAP. They arrive 90 seconds later.

Over the next hour, Ranger details his mission, with Lester translating for Steph. It sounds like a SNAFU to me-this ain't gonna be pretty. More importantly, he'll need our help covertly and it has to be kept from the men. Yikes! This is edging towards FUBAR. Surprisingly, Steph is completely calm, albeit pale, hearing the details. Starting with me, she looks around the table and as she catches the eyes of those she's known the longest, she starts to regain some color in her cheeks. By the time she reaches Tank, she looks almost normal again.

"Any questions?" No. What can we ask? Our job is to support you quietly. 10-4.


	14. Past and Present

**A/N: You may want to scroll down and read the Postscript first, before reading the chapter. I'm using gang terminology and I don't want anyone to be confused.**

* * *

**Chapter 1****4: Past and Present**

**Manny's POV** (_All conversations in Spanish_)

After the meeting, Ranger asks me and Hector to follow him to his office- Wifey's office, whatever. My brain is on overload. Ranger is headed into a completely FUBAR situation. I think it will take some time to process everything I've heard, but one thing is certain: I have a very good guess on who _might_ be the New Jersey moles.

Ranger looks at Hector for a long moment. Hector, in turn, stares at me for a long moment, assessing. He turns back to Ranger and nods.

"Manny, Hector and I are trusting you with information we never want to hear discussed again. Your background in law enforcement and the FBI leads me to believe that you and Hector, more than anyone else in this company, might be able to help me piece together the information I'm going to receive in the streets. Plus, I may need you to tap back into the feeb network for me. If you feel helping me is going to violate your principles, leave now."

Leave? The entire reason I joined RangeMan is because the unofficial motto in this place is "Morally right even if legally grey." I know better than anyone how doing the legal thing is rarely the right thing. "I'm in. What do you need from me?"

Over the next hour I hear things about Ranger and Hector's pasts that completely shock me. Long story short, Ranger is still considered a Latin King in the streets, just inactive. When he joined the gang at 13, he 'bled in' to become a member. When he left Newark at 19 to join the military, he never 'bled out,' which is the only way one stops being a Latin King. Regardless of the military ethic, members of street gangs make up a small but significant part of the military, especially the Army, and his status as a Latin King never harmed his military career. After he became a Ranger, it was probably never thought of again, especially since he's not tatted and doesn't rep the signals.

But just like you just can't stop being military, you can't stop being a King, and the Kings of Newark and Miami still consider him one of their own, which goes a long way toward explaining RangeMan's rep and intel networks on the streets. They know that the man in charge is one of them and that he could 'pull a Hector' on them and no one would ever know, so there's no need to have him 'bleed out' _[A/N: See Postscript for details.]_. The Kings' main sources of income are drugs, identity forgery, arms dealing and murder, areas of business RangeMan has no stake in, so Ranger isn't in conflict with his former brothers. Although, it does explain why Hector and Silvio are so good at creating fake identities.

Hector's past is more well known, although the details I get are surprising. Everyone in Central Jersey knows that Hector Gutierrez is responsible for the complete devastation of the Latin Kings in the region. What they don't know, what I didn't know, is that Hector 'bled out' officially. When Hector got fed up with banging and was ready to 'bleed out,' he followed the code. He took down his attackers in the circle, but instead of letting him walk away clean, they came after him again. Hector quietly assassinated 90% of the remaining Kings in Trenton and the surrounding areas and put out word that anyone who came after him could expect the same to happen to them.

By that time, Ranger had started RangeMan Trenton and quickly hired Hector for his expertise with electronics. His hiring was controversial, especially with Trenton PD, who had a feeling that Hector was responsible for the massacre, but they couldn't pin shit on him. Considering he'd just cleaned up a huge portion of their gang problem, they weren't trying too hard. Between Ranger, a former Army Ranger/Special Forces military man, and Hector, uber-assassin, the Latin gangs in Jersey decided it wasn't worth it to oppose them.

"Hector and I still have contacts in Newark, who have been feeding me information about the moves MS-13 have been making into Jersey. I already have good intel on who's causing the mayhem and confusion here, but I need Hector to go verify it. Over the next few weeks, I need you and Hector working together to comb through the info I bring in to verify that I've got the right people before I start electronic surveillance."

"I'm going to take a guess here and say you're looking at Marco Reyes, Esteban Rivas, and Ramon Garcia, right?" Ranger is quiet; Hector is smiling.

"I told you, _bro_, shit smells," Hector says. "Those fuckers are dirty; you just need to pin it on them."

"How did you know?" Ranger asks.

"Feeb nose. The rumors were rampant that those three were dirty when I was still there. No one could ever prove it, but the lifestyle they were living, the cars they drove, and the houses they had, it was way above feeb pay grades. Not one of them had a wealthy relative to pass money to them or their spouses, so we couldn't figure it out. The other problem was that they investigated white-collar crimes, and in the Bureau no one ever really thought about or followed up on the nexus between white-collar and violent crimes unless the suspect was Mafia. Since they couldn't find any links in their actual cases and they had good conviction rates, it was shrugged off. Hearing that they might be taking kick-backs from gangs makes more sense than anything else I ever heard in the Bureau. I'd look for a gang or relative connection."

I turn to Hector. "I owe you a confession, something I shoulda told you long before now. Trenton PD was using the Bureau to process the forensic in your cases. The only forensic proof in the only case where any was left behind just _happened_ to disappear right before I left the Bureau. Since the evidence was in transit between Trenton PD and the Bureau when it disappeared, no one is quite sure what happened. Trenton PD is not sure how it happened. The Bureau isn't sure how it happened. I'm not too concerned about how it happened. After all, I was a short-timer there."

Silence. Then the biggest grin I've ever seen on Hector's face appears and, to my astonishment, tears are running down his face. "Manny, thank you. I was worried about that." Ranger is also full-on smiling. I'm not gay, but I can't understand how Wifey manages to resist the boss. I'd pay to be that handsome.

"Don't thank me. I have no idea what happened. I just know it did." I smile too. This conversation will never be repeated anywhere else. The man who did the disappearing died in the line of duty shortly thereafter, and it wasn't until his funeral that I put all the pieces together, so it will remain a secret. Turns out, his brother was a Latin King from Philly, pretty high up in the organization, who thought the way the Trenton Kings handled Hector was without honor.

When I first joined RangeMan and learned I would be working with Hector, I had no intention of ever revealing that information. Hell, I had no intentions of ever speaking to him. I was still enough of an officer to be pissed that we could never pin anything on him and angry that a fellow feeb let a gang-banger go free, regardless of the reason. Now it all makes sense. In the time that I've worked with Hector, I've realized that the man has a core of honesty and decency that's missing in a lot of so-called "honest citizens." He says what he means, he keeps his word, he protects those he cares about, and he will die for those he loves. It helped that he had never killed anyone before he made the decision to stop banging, so I'm classifying his actions under self-defense. Hell he didn't, and still doesn't, have any kind of record. Morally right, if legally grey.

I trust Hector with my back in the field, which is saying a lot considering he and I didn't start off too well when I joined RangeMan. Lester eventually took me to the side and told me that pissing off Hector was dangerous to my health. Besides, I needed to decide if I was going to judge the man for the rumors I heard or the evidence I had in front of my face. What I'd heard or what I saw with my own eyes. After that, Hector and I started getting along much better, and I now apply that with all men in RangeMan. Regardless of what I hear about your background, you have a fresh slate with me; after all, some of my former colleagues assume I've gone over to the dark side since I started work here, but working here I've drawn my gun less than when I was a feeb. I decided never to rub it in their faces that I make a hell of a lot more than I did in the Bureau. It's legal money, too.

We kick around ideas for the next hour until we hear this deafening roar come from the floor. Hector and I stand up, staring at the door. Ranger smiles. "I guess Tank sent the email about Steph's elevation." We all smile at each other and go join the party.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Great. The guys left me in here with Hal and the other four XOs to let me work out how I'm going to interact with them over the next year. I know that I need some time to wrap my head around everything Ranger just covered (even though I was already aware of all of it) so I wave to get their attention. "I don't know about you, but I need a few minutes before we launch into the rest of the day, so how about we take 10, grab something from the break room and meet back here." I get four quiet nods as they leave, and I realize I can't move anywhere. No worries; Hal stands over me with a worried look in his eyes.

"Do you want me to carry you to the break room, Steph, or should I bring you back something?"

I sigh. "No bark and twigs, if at all possible, Hal. Fruit, water, a muffin but no granola." He smiles, picks me up and moves me closer to the table then walks off.

I'm scribbling in my notebook. I don't know what to say to them or how to start this off right. I know they need to accept that I'm in charge, but I have no idea how to establish my authority. I need Ranger right now. I need him to show me what to do.

"Excuse me?" I can't remember his name, but he's gorgeous. Black hair, green eyes, and dimples in both cheeks. I have to check the RangeMan employment contract. "I'm Daniel, Danny, from Atlanta. Congratulations on your appointment as CO." Right. Atlanta and NYC were the two sites the guys bought instead of built and Danny is more corporate than military.

"Thank you. Stephanie. Nice to meet you."

"Can I give you some advice?" I'm immediately wary, and he smiles.

"Nah, I have no intentions of messing with you. Look, start as you mean to go on. I know that sounds like "Duh" advice, but it's the truth. You run the company. We answer to you. So, ask your questions. Demand answers. And if I were you, I'd start with getting an idea of what each branch focuses on, number of employees, and what each XO has planned for his pipeline, or new ideas he'd like to implement. Stay away from the financials if at all possible in a group setting. None of these guys are going to want to talk about them unless they are one on one with you."

This is actually pretty sound advice and matches what Ranger said to me this morning, so I smile at him. So far, Danny has shown himself to be someone I can trust for advice. "Thank you. I think I'll do just that." I get another smile as he retakes his seat and starts making notes.

I have my questions ready as each XO returns to the Conference Room. "Well, I think we've already had one hell of a morning." I smile and get two smiles, two frowns, and one completely blank face in response. "First thing first, I'd like for each of you to introduce yourselves, tell me a little bit about yourself and why you joined RangeMan. Hal, can we start with you?"

Hal turns beet red, but composes himself and turns towards his new colleagues. "Well, I'm Hal. I served in the Army in the Corp of Engineers as a Sapper and as Rescue. I also underwent Special Forces Training, Green Beret. I joined RangeMan because the ethos here was something I believed in strongly, and the opportunity to serve under Carlos Mañoso, even as a civilian, means a lot."

Wow, I never knew any of that. "What's a sapper, Hal?"

Hal blushes beet-red again. "Military Engineer, Bombshell."

The guy next to Hal chuckles. "Try again. Try 'Demolitions Expert'."

I turn to Hal. "Is that true?" Hal nods, completely red. "You mean that I'm nicknamed Bombshell and _**you're **_the one who knows how to blow things up?"

"Yeah, well, I mean, I was trained to blow up buildings, bridges, roads, that sort of thing. You blow up funeral homes, cars, road-kill. . .well, you don't blow them up, you just happen to be nearby when it happens." The other XOs are laughing now. Thank god. We've broken the ice. "Besides, you know that's a two-part nickname. I mean. . . you know, they gave it to you because of. . . I mean. . . you know. . . " Hal is motioning up and down with his hand, and he's red again. Everyone is laughing harder and ribbing him. "Anyway, I appreciate everyone's offers of assistance. I don't know what to expect my first week, so anything you can tell me is great to help me get off on the right foot."

I look to Hal's right. Tall and muscular with dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. I'm tempted to name him 'Gomez Addams,' but he lacks the mustache.

"Well, I'm Armando, and I run the Miami branch. Congratulations on your appointment as CO, Stephanie. I look forward to working with you. Anyway, I served as a Marine for 10 years before joining RangeMan, and I joined because I wanted the excitement of the military with a better paycheck." The guys laugh again.

Mr. Dimples is next. "I'm Daniel, Danny, and I run RangeMan Atlanta. I'm not military," the guys boo and hiss playfully, "but I do have a master's in finance from Emory University. I also served in the National Guard for seven years, and I don't want to hear any 'weekend warrior' jokes from any of you." The guys grin and nod at him. "I jumped ship from Enron, joined AlliedSecurity right before we were bought out, and I stayed because RangeMan offered the best combination of all my training and skills. I'm in management at a very military-minded company, which is great." All the guys are nodding now. It's a good explanation.

The next guy is Mr. Blank Face. Tall and muscular with blond hair and cold grey eyes. Iceman? "I'm Mark, and I run RangeMan Boston. I'm formerly US Air Force, and I was a fighter pilot." Oh that's funny. I really do have 'Iceman" as an XO. So who's Maverick? Me? The nickname might fit. . . I'll think about it later. "I've been with the company for six years, and I've spent a lot of time at each branch and with each XO, so if you need any advice or assistance Stephanie, please feel free to call me."

It's weird. The moment he offers to help, I can feel the atmosphere in the room chill, and even Hal is looking at him coolly. Something has happened that I need to find out about, but for the moment I shelve my intention to ask if his nickname is 'Iceman' and nod. The last guy must be the XO from NYC. Shorter, about 5'10" with chocolate skin and dark eyes. Lord help, he's gorgeous. A darker version of Ranger.

"I'm Javier from RangeMan NYC, and like Danny, I'm not military, I'm corporate. My degree is in Public Administration and Finance from NYU, and I also served in the National Guard for 10 years." He smiles at me. "I mean, Danny and I are like twins here. I joined SecuritySystems, the forerunner of RangeMan and stayed when we were bought out and just moved up in the company. Like Danny, I stayed because it was the best combination of my training and skills."

Well, this hasn't been bad. I have a room of former military and two guys with advanced degrees. I have plenty of people to help me keep this company afloat. "Well, I'm Stephanie Plum, nicknamed the Bombshell Bounty Hunter by the Trenton Gazette. I'm not especially fond of that nickname, but I tolerate it with the Trenton guys because I know they don't mean anything bad by it. Tell your staff not to call me that." Each XO except Hal nods and makes a note of it. "I'm a former lingerie buyer," this gets raised eyebrows all around the room. I'm back to two smiles and three frowns "and I was unemployed for six months before I blackmailed my weasel of a cousin into giving me a job as a bounty hunter just so I could go after my ex, a Trenton cop who was FTA." Each man's eyebrows raise further. Much more and they'll hit their hairlines. "That's how I met Ranger. He offered to give me some basic pointers. Bringing in Morelli, the cop, was my first big FTA. $10,000 to me. I also ended up clearing him of the murder charges."

I smile at the memory, and the men sit back in their chairs with small smiles, assessing me a bit more. Well, four smiles and one blank face. Iceman is **not** thawing. "Anyway, depending on who you ask, my capture rate is either 98.5% or 100%, and although I don't always do it by the book, I always get the right man. I graduated with a degree in business from Douglass College that has pretty much gone unused since I left E.E. Martin," Javier's eyebrows shoot up at that, "and I've worked on and off in just about everything RangeMan Trenton has done for the past few years. And now Ranger has left me here with you guys to run it for the year, so you tell me, what do I need to focus on first?"

We have a good start going. The guys are a wealth of ideas. Danny would like to move into private investigation and hospitality coverage. Javier agrees with Danny's assessment and adds that he would like to add more personal body guarding services to his roster. Mark has a lot of financial institutions in Boston, so the addition of more large-client services would really help him. Armando has the most difficult situation. Because it's Miami, personal body-guarding is big, but he can see where the addition of retail loss prevention would really grow RangeMan Miami. Hal is on Day 1 like me but apparently he's been thinking and talking with Manny, because he would like to grow the Personal Investigation services we offer and look more at Special Event and Hospitality coverage.

"Ok, you guys are going to have to explain what Hospitality coverage is?" For my question, I get a loud exhale from Mark. Hey, I can't know everything.

Danny is the one most eager to move into this, so he explains. "Hospitality coverage is providing security for large scale events and conferences. Atlanta, Boston, and Miami are among the top 10 places in the country to hold events and conferences and being able to provide this service is low-cost, high pay day. Best of all, we allow the client to determine if they need armed or unarmed security. We can recommend either or a mixture of both."

"What kind of events are we talking about?" Armando and Javier have also leaned forward and are listening closely.

"Things like major shareholder meetings, sorority and fraternity conferences, product conferences, that sort of thing. We can provide security to do checkpoints, screen people, establish rolling perimeters, walk people to their cars and protect displays, among other services." The more Danny talks the more excited he is about the idea.

I see the dilemma Ranger and the guys face. There are many things we can do, but which ones _should_ we do? Then again, we have a lot of ex-cons and ex-gang members in all the RangeMan offices, especially Trenton, NYC, and Miami. We need situations where they can serve without necessarily having to use a gun, since most convicts are barred from using guns. Private Investigation, Special Events and Hospitality sounds like they might be the winners. . . We're 90 minutes in when we hear a deafening roar from the monitoring stations. Hal grins and says, "I think that's for you, Steph."

The door bursts open, and Junior runs in, followed closely by half of RangeMan Trenton. "Sorry to interrupt, _**CO**_," and the guys burst into loud cheers and applause, "but your presence is required on the floor." Hal is grinning as Junior picks me up and carries me to the floor. Ranger and the Core Team are standing there with Ella and a cake, grins on all their faces. Ranger grin. Yum. . . I check quickly for drool. He takes me into his arms and settles me in a chair while the rest of the guys crowd around. I see video cameras recording the event.

"Stephanie Plum, on behalf of RangeMan Trenton, we want to congratulate you on your elevation to **Commanding Officer** of RangeMan, LLC." Junior is in his element, and every man in RangeMan Trenton is looking thrilled. "We understand that for the duration of your recovery period, you will also reside with us," more cheers, "and will continue to reside here with us for the next year." Loud Cheers! I never thought the guys would be this happy. "Steph, we will do everything in our power to help you grow and expand RangeMan over the next year, and we stand ready to carry out your orders. Ranger, Tank, Lester, Bobby, we will not fail in protecting Steph, in supporting her, and in helping her carry out her mission. We will provide her with every resource. We will anticipate and meet her every need, and we will keep her safe and secure until you return. Hip Hip—"

"**HOORAY!**" I'm really touched, both by Junior's words and by the Pineapple Upside-Down cake I see in front of me. I want to eat it but. . . Ranger solves the dilemma by cutting a piece off the slice Ella hands him and feeding it to me. I have tears running down my cheeks and no less than seven hands extend with handkerchiefs and Kleenex.

"You guys really meant that 'anticipate and meet every need' bit, huh?" I smile as I reach for the handkerchiefs. They smile and every man on the floor takes a slice of cake. Ranger holds me around the waist and we begin the "Pass the CO" game with every man on the floor. Each one hugs me, kisses my cheeks, squeezes my hands and lets me know how happy they are that I'll be in charge over the next year. I know that this is my first day, but it's starting off great.

* * *

_Author's Postscript: The terms 'bleed in' and 'bleed out' are gang terminology that describe a willingness to shed blood, either your own or the blood of others, to show loyalty to the gang. Since I'm anti-senseless violence, I'm not writing a 13-year old as committing murder, so beating it is. So, in Ranger's case, since he was 13, to 'bleed in' with the Latin Kings, he took a savage beating for 3 minutes, also known as 'jumping in'. Usually, a prospect can join the gang if they can survive the beating._

_I'm taking a creative license here because normally, in Black and Latino gangs, once in you never get out. The only way out is through the grave. However, before the 80's, if someone wanted to get out of a gang, they had to survive another beating, which was usually administered by the entire gang and lasted around 5 minutes. If you survived, you could walk away. I'm using this method to get Hector out._

_I live for Gangland and other similar documentaries on Netflix. This is a chance to put that knowledge to use._


	15. I'm not questioning your decisions

**A/N: I've added a poll to my profile. My muse has abandoned me again. Thankfully it's at Chapter 29, but still, I need your help. Vote for the person you would like to hear more from in this story and I'll see what I can do. And please, leave reviews! Last time she came home with 4 chapters worth of material!**

* * *

**Chapter 15: I'm not questioning your decisions…**

**Ranger's POV**

I'm happy to see that the Trenton men are taking Steph's elevation seriously. More importantly, the video of this little party is being broadcast live to each RangeMan office so they all know that the email was not a joke and that it should be taken very seriously. If they have questions, their XO is also here, standing in the background during this party. More importantly, the new CO has the backing, faith, and confidence of the entire Trenton staff and threats to her will not be taken lightly. I'm sure Lester is getting great shots of this party so that there are no questions about Steph's legitimacy or her importance.

I'm covertly watching my XOs. The guys were listening into C3 and they report that Steph's elevation was not really commented on after we left. Danny offered Babe some good advice, which she appears to have taken on board, and she's running the meeting with a firm grip. Good. I wanted her to take control from the beginning.

"You know, I never questioned whether or not she would be able to run the business aspect of this company," Bobby says quietly as we watch the Trenton guys hug my Babe. "I still have concerns about whether or not she'll make the other changes."

What can I say? "I do too, Bobby. I simply have to hope and pray she does." Our eyes meet, and I can see that, although Bobby will never let his concerns show in front of the men, he's not certain that Babe will step up to bat. Bobby is the brother I count on to worry the most. Bobby is the 'what-if?' member of the group; if there is a flaw in your plan, Bobby **will** find it. "I can say that she's never let me down before so I have no reason to worry that she will now." Bobby stares at me for a long moment then nods. He'll let his worries rest and pray I'm right.

I'm watching Mark. I am not ignorant of his desire to move up to the Leadership Core Team, but I'm not sure how to resolve this. I'm not elevating him any further but I also don't want him to leave. He's a perfect fit for Boston. Lester is firmly of the opinion that it'll be a cold day in hell before he votes Mark up to Leadership Core, and Bobby is standing with him. Tank is on the fence between firing him and firing him after kicking his ass. We make all business moves only after a unanimous vote, and I've been the hold out. Well, no longer. I finally make a decision: if Mark gives Babe any trouble, he's a dead man walking. If she fires him during the year, I won't oppose it or reverse it later.

"Ranger, can I have a moment?" I'm not surprised to see Armando is the first to approach me. I nod him toward my office and shut the door.

"Ranger, I've served under you for a long time. I've never questioned your judgment, and I'm not questioning it now. I am informing you that I have a problem." I incline my head toward him and wait. I already know what his problem is. "Look, every man in RangeMan knows the Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories. We know she's good, but word is she's a disaster. She falls in garbage, she's outrun by her skips, she doesn't conform to standards. You know the Miami office. It's _machismo_ central. I don't want her coming to Miami and getting her feelings hurt or being insulted by the men when they question her proficiency. I want to know how you expect me to handle this."

Shit, right as usual. I'm ready to replace Armando. This is not what I wanted to deal with. Armando's questions and concerns are legitimate, and if I were in his position I might have them too, but I don't expect this out of my XOs. You have to be a strong-willed individual to be an XO, able to resolve nearly any problem, and I'm thinking that Armando no longer has it in him. Has he been marking time waiting for me to return to Miami?

Thankfully, Lester walked in during the middle of that little speech. "You tell the men that she's the CO. That regardless of what they've heard she's a great bounty hunter. You tell them that if they really want to make an issue of her skills and abilities, you can hold her capture rate up against theirs and really embarrass them. You tell them that she signs their checks so they can stuff their _machismo_ up their asses. If Trenton can deal with it and respect her, Miami better. And if they still can't get over it, just call Tank. He considers any challenge to her leadership a challenge to his judgment and leadership and an insult to both him and Ranger. And when he's done, I'll see them on the mats too, blades in hand. And Bobby won't be handing out any ibuprofen once he's had a turn with them."

Armando's gone pale, but he nods and leaves.

"Thanks, _primo_."

"De nada. I knew he would ask. The _machismo_ issues of the Miami office are serious, though. I'll encourage her to visit there second." I raise my eyebrows. "I think she should visit Atlanta once she's out the cast to see how it runs. Danny will be supportive, and it'll be a good trip for her. Miami will be more difficult, but it should still be a good trip. Boston next, because Mark will be an ass, and NYC last."

Lester's plan might actually be better than any of mine if they're this far-reaching. I'll never tell him, though.

"I expect Mark to walk in here at any moment," I reply. Sure enough, the door opens and Mark walks in.

"Ranger, can I speak to you alone for a moment?"

Lester smirks and doesn't move.

"Go on." Mark glances at Lester then realizes that Les will be staying. Mark is afraid of Les; smart of him. "Ranger, I'm trying to make sense of this move. I mean, I know she has a great capture rate and that she's good at distractions and, given what she just told us about her first FTA, she's smart. But to elevate someone who isn't even a RangeMan employee to the top position, to **your** job, over all the other people you could have picked—"

"You mean over you?" Let's cut to the chase. You're only pissing me off trying to praise and insult her at the same time and you're questioning my judgment. I don't appreciate that. Tank and Bobby have walked into the office, and I see Bobby lock the door.

"Well, yeah, over me." Mark stands up straight and clenches his jaw. "I've run the company twice before when you brought other offices up and God only knows how many times when Leadership Core has a mission. . . I have the experience. I have the knowledge of the company and the industry as a whole. I know every XO, every core team and B-team at every office, I know a vast majority of the men and quite frankly, I'm insulted that you chose to put your girlfriend in the top job."

I feel Lester inhale sharply, and I motion for him to stay still. I want to hear this. I don't want Mark distracted by the sight of Les loosening his blades, which is what I think Les _really_ wants to do. Still, I can see Les moving for his short blades.

"I've been waiting for an opportunity to rise to the Leadership Core, and I had hoped that I'd given you enough of a demonstration of my skills and abilities to be considered, so yes, I consider your decision to elevate your girlfriend an insult not just to me but to every man in RangeMan who aspires to a leadership position in this company. We've worked hard for years to rise to the positions we are in, and you just dropped her on us with no warning, no discussion and no consultation. And I still haven't seen what makes her so special as to warrant the job of Commanding Officer."

Tank and Bobby are frozen in rage. Lester has his short blades in hand. I'm actually amused. Not 'haha' amused but 'That shit was so not funny that it's funny' amused. Mark finally notices that he's surrounded by the Leadership Core Team and that Lester has his blades in hand. He pales.

"First, the Leadership Core does not deem it a necessity to **consult** the XOs before we make a decision. We _may_ ask your opinions, but the final decision belongs to us and that's the way it always will be." Mark goes pale. He finally realizes he has overstepped severely with me. "Second, it's true that we've called on you before to run the company. What we've learned from those experiences is (a) you will grow the company but you'll look out for Boston first, and (b) you will attempt to remain in situations that are none of your business and maintain access to information that is no longer yours to peruse. So yes, you've given us a demonstration of your skills and abilities and what we learned from it is that we need someone who will put the welfare of the company above the welfare of their branch, and we need someone who will not hesitate to hand the reins back when the assignment is complete. That's why we elevated our **colleague**, not** my girlfriend**, to the CO spot. We need someone we trust absolutely to run the company the way **we** would. That person is Stephanie. We trust you to run RangeMan Boston and you have done and continue to do an outstanding job of it. We don't trust you to refrain from continuing to attempt to poke your nose into the running of the other branches when the assignment is over. That's why we didn't elevate **you**."

Mark has gone completely white, but my brothers have calmed down somewhat and are looking amused. The door handle is rattled. "Ranger? Ranger, are you in there?" Steph is outside.

"One moment."

"OK." We hear her call Junior to help her move away.

I turn to Mark. "That's why we elevated her. She got an answer from me so she moved away to take care of other business. That's what I expect. When she visits your office sometime in the coming year, I expect you to answer her truthfully, give her every assistance, and help her carry out her decisions. Any questions?" Mark is still white, but I'm done. I've handled this issue.

The government signed the contract this morning. $75 million, which includes the counterintelligence op I'll need to run. I have other shit I need to do to prepare and arguing with Mark is not on my short list. I watch him walk out the door and turn to Lester.

"The blades? Really?"

"Fucker is lucky I didn't slam his head to the floor," Tank growls.

I look at my brothers. "I'm in. If he gives Steph **any** trouble over the next year, he's dead man walking. If she fires him, I won't oppose it or reverse it." All three smile and I can see that we're on one page again. Decision made unanimously.

"He's a great fit at RM Boston. We've all agreed on that," Lester says. "If he quits, then Bomber will need to elevate someone else there but I know Mark and I know men like him. He'll spend the next year attempting to gather intel to prove that elevating Steph was a bad idea and present it to us when we return. So, we need to start thinking about a replacement." We nod. We've thwarted Mark's rise to the very top and he'll never forgive or forget it. Les is right. He's now officially a short-timer.

* * *

**Mark's POV**

There's no way I'm going to spend an entire year answering to this SMACK. She has no experience, no leadership skills, no training, and no fucking idea what she's doing. I love this company. I've loved it for a long time, devoted my life to it, done what I've been asked to do time and time again, and helped the company grow and prosper and I just can't understand why I've been passed over. If it were just Ranger, I'd wonder if he was pussy whipped, but this is the decision of the entire Leadership Core. If I know one thing about these guys it's that they don't share ass, no matter how good it is. So she can't be fucking all of them. What's her gift? What's she got that prompted them to promote her over everyone?

Clearly Ranger doesn't intend to give me any real information on his decision. That bullshit he fed me might work for Javier or Danny, weak shits that they are, but not me. I've seen the global picture of this company. I know how these guys think. There's another reason. I need someone in the Trenton office who can pass me information, but it's clear I won't find a mole here. These guys are loyal to her, are thrilled about this bullshit decision, and are taking the opportunity to celebrate three promotions in their office.

I need to watch her, to get an idea of what makes her tick, and I make a quick decision: I'm staying through to next week. Apparently she's holding some sort of seminar on how she finds people. Ok, I will give her that; she is the best in the company at searches. Chase let me know that her work last week, while on bed rest with a busted leg, led to their office finding two outstanding skips worth $2.5 million dollars. Now, if that's true, **that** is an appropriate job for her. Research, that's at her skill level, because anyone who believes even half those Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories knows she's shit at apprehension. Head of Research, not **Commanding **fucking **Officer**.

I catch Armando's eye and nod. We'll have dinner tonight and talk about what the hell is going on. I saw him enter Ranger's office before I did, so I know he got dressed down before I did. Idiot. Never be the first person to approach Ranger with bullshit, even if it's legitimate. You're getting the full brunt of his temper. Hell, if he addressed Armando anywhere near the way he addressed me, Armando must be missing part of his ass. That's almost as bad as approaching Lester when he's in a mood. Now Lester, that's the only motherfucker on the Leadership Core that I'm truly afraid of. I never approach him, for any reason. In that direction is suicide.

An hour later, I'm back in the conference room listening to the other XOs give this SMACK all their ideas. Idiots. No fucking way I let her implement **my** ideas and take credit. Fuck her. I'll implement my ideas in Boston, let Ranger see how effective they are and realize how effective I am as a leader and as a follower. I'm following his orders to grow my branch. She's smiling, writing all of it down, and listening to Danny, Javier and Hal spout their nonsense.

I'm starting to get a bit pissed about Hal. I'd heard about him, about how she stunned him with his own stun gun, yet he's sitting there like a panting dog at her feet, thrilled to be working with her. I'd never do it. She'd be lucky not to get stunned every time I saw her had it been me. I was hoping to make an ally out of him, but that's clearly not going to happen and from the way all the Trenton men are looking at me, the word has already spread about our 'discussion' in Tank's office. I finally spot the infamous Hector. That's Hector? Jesus! That man could kill someone with a glare! OK, Lester is the number two man I'm afraid of. Hector wins hands down.

Finally, this day from hell is over. I head back to the hotel and call Armando.

"Yo. Steakhouse?"

"Yeah. Out of Trenton. Princeton."

"Ruth's Chris?"

"Sounds good. On my way there."

I call in a reservation and arrive an hour later. Armando has already been seated. We order and sit back.

"What have you learned?" I ask.

"Not much. Trenton men are loyal to her. They know about your conversation with Hal. No chance of turning anyone there. Why didn't they elevate you this time?"

I've been anticipating this question. I know that he didn't want me in charge either because I'm aware he has a leak in his branch, but there's no way I want the bull Ranger said to me to get out. "They believe she has good ideas, a fresh perspective and they want to let her take the reins for a while."

Armando stares at me. Finally, he smirks. "Makes sense. Did you know he started adding her to all the company paperwork 2 years ago?"

OK, so I momentarily lost my blank face. I know it. Two years ago? He's been putting her on all the company paperwork for two _**fucking**_ years? "You have to be joking."

"Ryan left some paperwork out on his desk by mistake. They'd all signed off. It was right after the Scrog situation."

OK, I'm going to chalk that up to emotional disturbance. I feel myself calm but not by much. That's enough time to get all that reversed.

"Actually, she's on all the paperwork now. She's all but a partner."

OK, I'm done. I'm done. I can't believe it. She's on everything? **Everything**? You mean she'll become a partner, will be or could be elevated to Leadership Core, before me? NO. **NO NO NO**.

The rest of dinner is uncomfortable. Armando takes the opportunity to continue to poke me about the fact that she's trusted by Leadership Core, so I finally let it slip that he has a leak in his branch. That shuts him up fast. Yeah fucker, I know about that. I wonder if **she'll** find out.

The next day we each sit down with her to discuss branch finances and outlook. I'll give her my third string ideas, not my best stuff.

"Good Morning Mark." She's all sunny and happy, like everything was wonderful in her fucking world. I bet everything **is** beautiful in her world. Damn, how good **are** you in bed? Or are you that good at a circle jerk? She's probably going to be made a partner. She's already in charge for a year. Why? This is a company that prides itself on keeping a low profile. She blows shit up constantly. She's so far from low-profile it doesn't make sense. How does that square?

"Morning." I'm no more polite than I have to be. My lack of sunny happy answer throws her for a moment. She blinks rapidly then sits next to me. Damn. I wanted her on the other side of the table.

"OK, I wanted to meet with each XO one on one to talk about your branch and get a feel for what's in your pipeline. I'd also like to review your branch paperwork and get an idea of your plan for the year."

How cute. Someone give you a checklist on how to play grown up games, little girl? Business degree my ass. I pulled your record. You were at the bottom of your class. You worked for a Mob-related company. You bought cut-rate granny panties! I'll give you your capture rate; I verified that. Still, how the fuck do you qualify?

I pull out the branch paperwork I brought with me, grateful I didn't bring everything. She pulls out copies of everything I didn't bring. Shit. This is the start of a long hour with her. OK, so she's sharper than I gave her credit for. It's almost as if she can tell when I'm not giving her the full story, but she doesn't push and I don't elaborate. I've heard about her so-called instincts. I've got a year to test them, see if they're that fucking good. Finally, she sits back and looks at me.

"I'd heard good things about the Boston branch, and based on that, I was expecting to hear innovative, outstanding things from you. Frankly, I'm a bit surprised."

Fuck you. I don't break the blank face. She just looks at me. Finally, she shrugs.

"OK, well, I look forward to working with you over the next year, Mark." She smiles. OK, she's hot but she's not that damn hot. Not CO level hot. "I know that you've run the company when called on so I'll be looking to you for help when I don't understand procedure."

At that I smile. Good. Maybe I can still get some answers about you and what's going on by the time Ranger comes back.

I'm a loyal soldier. I'm loyal to the company. I'm loyal to the true CO. I'm loyal to my orders. I'm just not loyal to you.


	16. One More Night

**A/N: Plot? What plot? This chapter has no plot. Smut warning people. That's all I'm saying. Smut warning.**

* * *

**Chapter 16: One More Night**

**Steph's POV**

This day has been exhausting. If this is a sample of what I have to look forward to for the next year then accepting this position has been a vast mistake. At 6PM, I'm finally free for the day. I've been up for over 12 hours, and all I can think about is a nap. I wheel myself upstairs and open the apartment door to the worst surprise ever.

Ranger is packing.

He turns to look at me, and I see his lips twitch.

"When?"

"Wednesday, 0900."

So I have tonight and tomorrow night. That's all for the next year. Well, I don't have time to waste. I strip, right there in the living room, and hobble to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. Join me?"

I love that you never have to issue an invitation twice with Ranger.

Before the water is on, Ranger has stripped. His gorgeous mocha latte body is right behind me, covering me, and he takes a moment to put the waterproof cover on my cast before ushering me right into the shower. His hands are everywhere, his fingers stroking between my legs and drawing little circles above my clit. The water is warm, beating down on us, but it feels cold on my skin, overheated skin covered by a hot Ranger. His lips are attached to my neck and I'm sure I'll have a hickey in the morning. I'm trying to balance on one leg and wrap the other around his waist before I feel him push me against the cold shower wall.

"Don't." His eyes are serious. "I have you. You won't fall."

Well, that worry is gone. The water is beating down on both our bodies as Ranger's fingers are doing double duty between my thighs. His thumb is still drawing circles above my clit, but he's thrusting two fingers inside me at the same time. I'm clutching his hair, his neck, my lips kissing and licking anything I can reach, his ears, his neck, his lips, when he stops. I'm sooo close and he's almost right where I need him. I can feel him, thick and hot and hard, against my belly. It's been so long and he's sooooo large. I need him. I realize the problem, and the answer comes easily.

"I'm safe." I can see the worry in his eyes. "Please. Don't stop." His eyes turn black, and he pins me against the shower wall, wrapping both my legs around his waist.

"Don't let go." I nod, and he slides inside. Oh god. . . it's been so long since I had sex without a condom I forgot how amazing it felt to be bare. And it seems I'm not the only one. The look on Ranger's face is complete possession, and he starts thrusting hard. I'm meeting him, thrust for thrust, and this is going to be over entirely too soon but who cares. I don't care. Ranger doesn't care. This is round one and it's gonna be good.

The feel of Ranger bare inside me is taking me higher even faster than our one night together did. A month ago can't compete. I can feel his heat, his weight, and I'm getting wetter with each thrust. My body can only think of how good he feels inside, every ridge and vein stroking me, and my muscles clench and tighten around him. I can feel him breathing against my skin, labored, the hiss that escapes as my muscles tighten around him, coaxing him, milking him, and I can tell he's close but holding back for me. No worries; the next thrust sends me over the edge, stars in my eyes, so close to a blackout, and it seems as if Ranger is a thousand miles away as he comes with a shout. If not for the burst of wet heat inside me I might not have known he was even there.

We sink down to the floor of the shower and regain our breath. I can feel him looking at me, and when I open my eyes I see him looking uncertain. I know. I haven't done that since . . . Joe Morelli and Tasty Pastry. 14, maybe 15 years. Same as Ranger. I stroke his face and kiss his lips. His eyes are serious. I'm not changing my mind. I have hope. He's given me hope, hope that we can be more, that it's forever between us. If something happens, if something develops, he'll have to turn me away. I won't run; I just hope he keeps us. I hope we're more than Rachel, an obligation. I know he loves Julie, but I want him for keeps.

Ranger finally has enough energy to pull us both up. He carefully washes my hair, taking care not to tangle it, and works the conditioner in gently. I return the favor, including a small head massage which makes him smile. He loads the loofah with Bvlgari and slowly and carefully washes me, taking his time, careful not to miss a spot and again, I return the favor with enthusiasm. He turns off the water as I wrap a towel around my body. Ranger grabs my lotion and carries me to the bed, where he removes the cast cover and slowly rubs lotion into every inch of my skin. This is shaping up to be a wonderful night when we are very rudely interrupted.

**_GROOOOOWWWWLL_!**

Ranger blinks twice and looks at my stomach. He glances at me, and I'm sure that I'm red. We look at each other and start laughing.

"Right. Beast first." He calls Ella and asks for dinner. She'll be here in 5.

We leave the bedroom to find Ella has set a lovely and romantic dinner. A mini lasagna for me (_sigh_ I bet it's vegetable) and something with sprouts for Ranger. At least there's white wine and bread to go with my meal. Ranger has water.

"How did it go?"

"You weren't listening in?" I was wrong. There's meat!

"Nope."

"It was OK. Danny gave me good advice. Hal and Javier have some good ideas. I'm not sure what to think about Mark and Armando."

Ranger nods. "You'll do fine."

"Are you sure about this? I mean, are you absolutely sure you want to leave me in charge?" I'm still nervous about bankrupting the company.

"You'll do a great job, Babe. I trust no one more."

"Not even Tank?" I smile.

"You're first, Babe." OK, that's stunning. "Tank's a very close second."

"What do you have left to pack?"

"Not much."

"Do you have to do it tonight?" I get a small smile.

"Got plans?"

"They require you."

"Babe."

I'm done with dinner so I drop the towel.

I love that you never have to issue an invitation twice with Ranger.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

After Rachel I swore I would never have unprotected sex again. No woman was worth the uncertainty, the heartache, the negotiations over child support, visitation, and parental rights. We have a great relationship now, against all odds, but when Rachel got pregnant, she expected me to stay by her side. I liked Rachel, but I didn't love her, and I definitely didn't love her enough to throw my career away. Our breakup was vicious, with hurtful accusations on both sides. Ron and I get along so well because he was actually the catalyst for the two of us coming back together and getting along for Julie's sake. Until Ron, I was a vast disappointment to her, and her family still dislikes me for the most part, even though I did well by Rachel and Julie.

But when Babe said please, I didn't think about it any further.

It was the best sex of my life. It was better than the DeChooch deal because it meant more. She trusted me. Fully. With her body. Knowing that there's always a possibility that the birth control could fail, that she could end up tied to me for the rest of her life. And she still let me enter her bare.

I'm no longer desperate to know what happened between her and the Cop. Whatever it was, it was serious and it was final. Babe is serious about her birth control and condom use. I know the Cop was never bare inside her. She told me that first night, that she'd never let anyone inside her naked since he took her virginity. Not even her husband had that privilege. And yet she just had me take her, bare, against my shower wall. If I'd known how important the moment was going to be, she would have been comfortable in my bed, not posted up against cold tile. What's between us is serious. It's permanent. She's in for keeps and so am I.

I'd give her the ring inside the safe now if I weren't leaving for a year.

As far as I'm concerned, from this moment on, she's mine. Fuck the cop. Fuck the ex-husband and any other fucker who comes near her. If I could, I'd tattoo it on her. _Ranger's Property. HANDS OFF_. She let me inside her bare. She loves me. She trusts me. She's mine.

I carry her back to the bed and am surprised when she rolls over on top of me. I'm ready, as always when she's within a mile of me and naked. I steady her and wait as she lifts slightly and settles me between her legs. She lowers herself slowly onto me. Oh god, round two and condomless again. . . I gotta do something about my stamina. I'm ready to bust now and she's just getting settled. I wait and enjoy the feeling of being inside her. She's as tight as any virgin, and I'm having to count to 30 in Arabic in my head to keep from succumbing to the feel of her. Finally she starts moving, bounce bounce swirl bounce bounce swirl, her breasts and hair bounce with her and _Jesús, ayúdame_ (Jesus, help me) I'm not the man I was at 20.

She's going to unman me. I open my legs a little and it resettles her into my lap, but she hasn't stopped. She's moving faster and I'm tweaking her nipples and grabbing her hips and she has a look of pain and ecstasy on her face that's etched into my memory. I have my fingers on her clit, tapping a counter rhythm to her bounce and the tears are flowing unchecked down her face. She leans forward and makes little gasping noises and I capture a nipple between my teeth. Her eyes open, those gorgeous sapphire blue eyes, and she's close. I'm up to 50 in Arabic and laving her nipples with my attentions. Her breasts are beautiful, perfect, just enough for my mouth to fully enjoy and I'm suckling like a babe when I feel it.

Her muscles are clenched around me like a vise, she's stopped moving, just grinding on top of me, a desperate search for release, and I roll her under me and thrust. That does it. I can see her eyes roll back and the shudder rolls through her. I can't stop my own release and I thrust through it, harder, faster, I'm slamming into her body heedlessly, needing, searching, waiting for my own release and it's just. . . there, oh _Dios, Jesús y todos los santos_ (God, Jesus, and all the saints) she's magnificent. I could father an entire state off what I'm shooting right now. I don't know when it will end. And she's out cold. Le petit mort.

I've never felt more like the man than I do right now.

* * *

This is the pattern for the entire night. I'm certain I didn't get any real sleep. The moment she moves, I'm inside her, sometimes hard and fast, enjoying her screams, the way she pulls my hair, the fingernail marks she's leaving in my ass and hips, the desperate way she calls my name. I correct her, tell her in this bed, between us, I'm Carlos. I want to hear no other name. Everyone else has Ranger; she alone has Carlos, and I want to hear that name screamed in ecstasy. She's stunned and blinks, then gives me her 1000W smile. She's chanting my name, a benediction to my skill, my prowess, and I'm in love with the way it sounds.

I give her plenty of reasons to scream it during the night.

I slide down her body and kiss every inch of skin I find along the way. I find her goosebumps and her ticklish spots and map them in my memory. I remember that she's ticklish around her belly button, but if playing with her clit at the same time, I can wind her up in 1 minute flat. That information is still accurate so I mark that as confirmed intel and enjoy the gush of warmth I receive. I lick her clit and enjoy her taste, warm and salty and sweet and all mine, my woman. I taste myself in her and I'm harder than ever before. I settle in and suck her lips and her clit. Her legs are moving around everywhere and she has my hair clutched between her fingers. She's crying and yelling my name, hoarse, and I'm happy. I'm using my entire face, my lips and tongue and fingers, to bring her pleasure. I want her to have le petite mort again. I want it to be great. I want to wipe away any memories of any other man. I want to be the only one. It's selfish, but it's what I want after four long years of waiting to have this woman in my bed. I haven't been completely celibate, but I have been pretty damn close.

Other times, it's slow, so slow I'm barely moving, inside her just enjoying the way she feels, her softness, the smell of my body, my scent, in her skin. I'm doing my best to mark her, to infuse her with me, my essence, my scent on her skin. I want any man who comes near her to know, subconsciously, that she's been claimed. She has a man and he is dangerous. He will kill to protect what's his. This woman is owned. I lift her arms above her head and have her thrust backwards against me. It's perfect, shallow thrusts that leave her entire front open to my fingers, my hands cupping her breasts and stroking her belly. Again, she trusts me. At first, she thought this might be butt stuff but she didn't balk. She just let me position her and I felt her relax when I settled behind her and entered from the back.

"I wouldn't."

"I know."

"You were nervous."

"I wasn't sure what you were doing."

I kiss between her shoulder blades and lift her injured leg on top of mine. "I wouldn't. You aren't comfortable with it. The day that changes, you tell me."

I feel the shallow thrusts speed up. She's desperate for more than what I'm giving, what I'm allowing right now. My hands are cupping her breasts, slowly rubbing her nipples. I'm kissing her neck and between her shoulder blades and her shoulders. Beautiful shoulders with tiny freckles. I'm holding her around the waist and she feels wonderful, spooning and fucking all at the same time. I lift slightly and kiss her and let her move her hands down. She immediately starts rubbing her clit, and I move her hands. Oh no, I want this to last. If it takes hours I'm OK. I want to sink into you. I want to be a part of you. She begins to tweak her own nipples, but I'm covering her sex and I won't let her near. The tears are rolling down her face and she begins to squeeze me deliberately. Oh, she's sneaky. Now I'm desperate. She thrusts and squeezes and releases on the retreat and I'm wanting more. We're both desperate now, and I start playing with her clit and she's thrusting faster. "Carlos!" It's not enough. I lift her leg and begin thrusting faster. This isn't the slow release I wanted, but it's 3AM. I'll play ball. You'll pay tomorrow. The release is sweet. She relaxes into me and catches her breath. I pick her up, reapply the cast cover and take her to the shower. She blinks and looks at me, confused.

"Unless you want to sleep in the wet spot. . ." I let the sentence trail off and watch as she blushes. I return to the bedroom, strip the bed and apply new sheets. I'm back in the shower in time to bathe her and myself.

I have one more night. I'll make it worthwhile.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Four hours of sleep. That's all I got. I don't even remember getting out the shower. I just know that Carlos shook me awake at 7AM for the Core Team call. I don't remember a word said, but I do remember Lester saying something about falling asleep on the job and laughing. I'm pretty sure I responded with "Fuck off."

When I wheeled myself back upstairs that evening, I was met by naked Carlos. My brain simply exploded. He lifted me out the wheelchair onto his dining room table, and for the next hour I had nothing to say. It was spectacular. We had sex on top of the table twice. The first time Carlos had me spread eagle and exposed. His hands travelled up and down my body as my unhappy memories of Dickie and Joyce on the my table were replaced by the feeling of Carlos's cool dining room table under my back and ass, his incredibly hot body slamming into me, the sound and feeling of his dick and his balls slapping against my body in a frenzy of passion, and the sound of laughter as we ate dinner off that table 30 minutes later.

Joyce can have my unfaithful ex-husband and Ethan Allen dining room table. I have Carlos and his Restoration Hardware special. Both are made for much more active sex.

The second time, we were holding on to each and he was slower, gentler this time. He kissed me gently, my lips, the tip of my nose, my eyelids, my forehead. He was speaking to me in Spanish, making me even more horny, more excited, more desperate. I love when he speaks to me in Spanish. I wish I knew what he was saying. The sex was wonderful because when I locked my legs around his waist, he couldn't move. He could only thrust as much as I would give. I could feel the muscles in his ass and legs bunch up and relax, feel the muscles in his back roll. I could play with his nipples and cup his balls and play with his butt, which brought a smile to his face.

"No butt stuff, huh?"

"You've never said you had anything against it."

"I don't. Touch me wherever and however you want, Babe."

Permission received. I slid my fingers up and down Carlos's spine, which made him shudder and thrust harder. When I slipped my fingers back down to cup his balls, he whispered for me to stroke right behind them. I had no idea he could get any harder or larger but he did. The thrusts after that were so strong they were almost painful. The orgasm was beautiful. The words he said (in Spanish, of course) and the tears he cried. . .I have no words for it. I cried and wiped his face. It was almost too emotional. He settled us into the shower to calm down and clean up and afterwards, he brought me back into the living room. I had no idea we weren't done yet.

That night was an education. Carlos decided that the bed was passé, so we didn't go near it until after midnight. We moved from the dining room table to the floor for tantric sex, wrapped Indian Style around each other on top of a blanket. It was beautiful and intimate and incredible all at the same time because it didn't require us to move very much. Small shallow thrusts, as natural as breathing, kept us orgasming for hours.

Carlos kissed every part of me he could reach and murmured in Spanish. Every so often he spritzed us with a spray bottle he had nearby and gave me sips of water, but otherwise it was constant thrusting for 4 hours. Long continuous orgasms. If not for the water I would have been dehydrated. The intimacy of the position was unbelievable. Carlos was staring straight into my eyes, kissing me, holding me, loving me, letting me touch and kiss and hold him as much as I wanted. I could lean back and let him have complete run of my body. He slid his hands and fingers everywhere, never breaking rhythm, never losing focus. It was worship, plain and simple and I allowed him to have it.

This is lovemaking. This is not sex. He is making love to me, I am making love to him and I know, without him saying anything, that he loves me. That's it's as permanent for him as it is for me. I don't have the words yet, we'll talk about that in a year, but I know. Just as I've always known and didn't want to accept that I made my choice 4 years ago in a dingy diner. That I accepted a night's worth of sex with a man who scared and excited me because I needed to know if I was just overhyping him in my mind or that what I felt was real. That I stalked a gun runner and his crazy family because I would do anything to clear him.

That I would have died a thousand deaths inside if Scrog had killed him.

I have him for the rest of this night, and I refuse to let go until the very last moment. Until he walks out the door. Until he leaves.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

I want so badly to tell her I love her where she can understand. I want her to know I'm in, I love her, I will never send her back to the Cop, that if she ends up carrying my child from this night that I will always be by her side.

But I don't.

I still need to know that she will make the changes. I'm certain she will. She's never let me down. But it's the last obstacle standing in the way. I need to know that she takes herself and her safety seriously. If I start thinking about _Someday_ I don't want it to end prematurely. And for the first time I'm thinking babies with this woman. I'm thinking I wouldn't mind leaving some small bit of me behind with her. But that's foolish. If it turns out that she doesn't make the changes I don't want to leave my child in danger. A mother who is a danger magnet is not a safe situation. I don't want to lose her and a child. I'd never heal. I'd go insane. There would be no stopping the murder spree. I'd make Hector look like amateur night.

So I'm giving her everything that I can now. I'm giving her my body, my heart, my soul. I'm showing her my emotions. I haven't cried since the day I signed away my rights to Julie, and no one except Tank saw those tears. I'm giving her my home, my cars, my very livelihood. I'm leaving her in the company of those I trust most to see to her safety and security. If something should happen to me, she and Julie inherit my personal estate equally and Babe gets all my shares in the company.

I'm giving her my love. Every bit of it and I can see that she knows and she accepts it. She accepts me. I'm prepared to give her anything she wants. She need only ask. I will go anywhere, do anything for her. I just want her by my side. But being by my side is dangerous. It's not for the faint of heart, and until her I was resigned to being alone. Now, I'm hopeful. For the first time in my life I'm thinking I can have someone in my life that I can acknowledge. It means having a public weakness, a chink in my armor for my enemies to exploit. But I love her enough to take the chance. I love her enough to put it on the line.

I love her enough to put a ring on it.

I need her to love herself enough to allow me to feel free to do that.

Right now, I have 3 more hours. I need a break. My legs are cramping. Steph's the only woman who can break me. I slide on top of her and start thrusting inside. She's half asleep, but she smiles and spreads her legs wider. Thank god. I slam into her, roughly, and enjoy the look of surprise on her face. No matter, she meets me thrust for thrust. This is fucking, no gentleness at all, and I'm as wild and feral as she is. No Babe, no going to sleep on me. I have territory to mark; I need you awake and accepting my claim. The orgasm is wild, painful, and perfect. I have teeth marks in my shoulder and I'm sure her fingernail scratches drew blood. Yup, they sting; she drew blood.

"What the hell was that?"

"Rough sex."

"Can I get a warning next time?"

"No going to sleep." I get a sleepy blink before she starts laughing.

"Most men would just say 'Wake up'."

"Babe." Seriously. I don't give a damn what some other stupid fuck might say. This is me and you. I'll never be like other men. Don't expect it.

I carry her off to the shower and wash her. I hate doing this. I spend all that time trying to infuse her with my essence then wash it away. No matter, I'll do it again.

I get her settled on the bed but before I can make a move, she pins me to the bed, then slides down my body. Oh Dios, si! I've never met a woman who loves oral as much as Steph, and she lacks a gag reflex. _Jesús, ayúdame_ (Jesus, help me). She takes me into her mouth and I can feel myself sliding down her throat, head being pinched as her lips settle at the base of my dick. If I were a lesser man, I'd cum right now. Bob bob swirl, bob bob swirl, up and down and anything not making it into her mouth is being stroked in her fist and she's rubbing behind my balls and I'm quickly losing my mind. She continues to bob and swirl, stopping to swallow my entire length then pop up and bob her mouth on the head like a lollipop. How many licks does it take to get to my center? I lost count after 2. Her hand takes over as she pops one, then the other, of my balls into her mouth and sucks on them, then licks behind them.

I'm done. That's all it took for me to start yelling her name, and before I can move to thrust inside her, she deep throats me completely. I'm shooting right down her throat, and since she made her choice I'm holding her head against my body, trying desperately not to thrust as my legs shake uncontrollably. I feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. _Shit!_ No other woman can eradicate my self-control like Steph can. I have no idea how long that orgasm lasts but at the end of it, I'm still hard. I know I'm good, shit, a fucking stud, but that's a first. Steph looks thrilled.

"Damn! That actually works!"

I raise an eyebrow. She blushes.

"I read it in _Cosmo."_

I make a note to get her a 2 year subscription to the magazine if it teaches her more tricks like that. Since I'm still hard, I roll over and thrust into her. I kiss her playfully, enjoying the taste of me in her mouth. Mine. All mine.

I need some sleep before I hit the road, so this will be it for the evening. This orgasm will have to last us both for one year. I move Steph's legs behind me and she takes the hint and wraps them around me. I thrust slowly and gently inside her. I can feel it coming and I know that I have to make this last. It's perfect.

I have enough time for 2 hours worth of sleep. When I wake up, I sense her stir but she doesn't wake completely. I shower and dress, try to get my head on straight. I spend a moment looking at her, in my bed, naked and wet, her smooth creamy white skin, endless legs, nipples hard and pebbled with my seed spilling from between her thighs. She's awake and looking at me, finally pulling the sheet up to cover herself. I sit on the bed and pull it back down. I want this image in my head. I need to remember this moment. I settle my hand on her stomach and pray I haven't left a son or daughter behind.

"If anything develops, tell Tank immediately. He'll pass the message along when I check in." She swallows and nods. I know and I decide to tell her. "You are not Rachel. The response would not be the same." Steph closes her eyes. I see the tears trail into her hair. I've relieved her mind. "If I don't hear anything I will assume nothing happened." She nods. I lean close to her ear and whisper "_Te amo, Stephanie, por siempre y siempre. Toma mi corazón para mí hasta que yo vuelva."_ She blinks and I smile and kiss her goodnight. One last look and I'm up and headed out the door. I hear her turn over in the bed and I'm gone into the night.


	17. I have plans, too!

**A/N: Because this chapter is all over the place, time-wise, brownc0at**** thinks I should inform you that it's late Friday morning. **** Don't want anyone to be confused.**

* * *

**Chapter 17: I have plans, too**

**Steph's POV**

The past week has been hell.

On Tuesday, I met with each XO for an hour. My meeting with Mark was awkward; the meeting with Armando had my spidey senses tingling. My best meetings were with Trenton Core, Danny and Javier. Hal really had thought about how to streamline processes and I couldn't wait for our Monday meeting to discuss how he wanted to accomplish it.

While I was meeting with the other XOs, he, Manny and Ram had gotten together to discuss their goals for the branch. Since they had no intentions of keeping secrets from each other, they wanted to meet as a group. Their ideas are really good, centering on Private Investigations and Client Services. They also said they would like to hire a few female employees and want my opinion on what the hiring process for women should be.

"You guys want to hire RangeWomen?" I was a little surprised.

"Yeah. Working with you for four years has illustrated that female employees can be very effective in the field," Ram said. I felt a breeze. "Unless the skip is gay, there's no way we can get them to follow us anywhere. Depending on the neighborhood, you walking with a RangeMan decreases suspicion on us, allowing us to more effectively survey an area. And female intel networks-"

_cough. _"Gossip."_ cough. _Manny needs to do something about that cough. Ram and Hal smiled. I glared at Manny.

"As I was saying, female intel networks are extremely effective. You ladies know someone everywhere, and if you don't know, you know someone who knows someone. It's an untapped network. We need a foothold there."

OK, they're making sense, but I've liked being the only female employee at RangeMan Trenton. Plus, I love the guys but I've heard the way they talk when they think there are no women around. We'd need a sexual harassment policy if we don't already have one. How would it affect the office to add women to the mix? There's real camaraderie here among the guys. I write that down as an idea to consider later.

* * *

Ranger left on Wednesday morning, but not before we locked ourselves on 7 for 2 nights of marathon sex. At the end of it, my poor doodah was tempted to put in for hazard pay but my brain told it to shut up. We were stacking this away for the long year ahead. No Ranger kisses, Ranger smiles, Ranger's wandering hands and Ranger-induced orgasms? I would take the overdose now and a couple of baths when he left. The bed, the shower, the floor, it didn't matter to Ranger as long as there was no pressure on my leg. We even had sex on his dining room table, which went a long way to erasing a lot of bad memories for me. He left early Wednesday morning, just as I was drifting into sleep. I removed his pillowcase from the pillow and put it in a Ziploc bag; yeah, it's sad, but it's all I have for the next 365 days.

During lunches, we talked about anything and everything but our 'relationship' and what he would actually be doing during the year. He called Julie to tell her he would be on assignment for a year and even though it was stateside she still might not hear from or see him. Julie and I made plans to see each other and hang out during my first visit to Miami, and Rachel let me know to call her and she would let me spend days with Julie, especially if it were during the summer. Ranger was pleased by this, I could tell. Julie and I have had a very close relationship ever since Scrog, and I'm not sure what he told Julie in Spanish, but she was very happy about my trip to Miami. He refused to talk about RangeMan and my new CO duties, saying that work discussions were not to take place in our bedroom. _Our_ bedroom. I know he's trying not to make any promises, but little slips like that reinforce my hope.

A message was dispatched to the company's head accountant and attorney on Tuesday to get here ASAP, so they arrived on Wednesday and walked me through the paperwork. I signed new paperwork for my Medical Power of Attorney to be held by Hal and Zero and finally wrote a will. I left everything, my few worldly goods, to my nieces. Legal custody of Rex, should I predecease him, would go to the RangeMan Trenton office. The guys were touched. I'm not so sure about Rex, but since he was napping on Woody's shoulder at the time, I think he'll be OK with the arrangement. They reviewed the legal framework for RangeMan and had me sign the necessary paperwork to ensure that any orders and decisions I made carried Ranger's full legal weight. Apparently, he'd already signed this paperwork before he left.

The company accountants went through all the company financial accounts, balance worksheets, branch accounts, and investment accounts. I hadn't looked at that many spreadsheets since my EE Martin days, maybe even since my college days. Tank and Lester pointed out special accounts used for ops (like the six set up for Ranger's current op) and accounts that were actually coded signals if Ranger and the guys were in trouble. Holy hell . . . another sign of the difference between my life and Ranger's. He has bank accounts that signal that he's in trouble. I have one bank account in constant trouble.

For the first time, it's being shoved in my face what I truly cost RangeMan. It isn't just the red ink at RangeMan Trenton, which was bad enough. It's the numerous injuries in the Apprehensions group that keep Manny short-staffed (and I thought I was so smart to figure out that he needed more men!) The double-time and hazard pay for 'Bombshell Duty'; I figured that out looking at the pay rates and sample timesheets with the accountants, who steadfastly refused to comment more than necessary on it.

It's especially clear in reading the status reports from the men after they have a bout of 'Bombshell Duty'. They're matter-of-fact and fair, but they consistently point out that I'm unarmed and I have contraband. I never realized they were writing that up. I thought it was my secret with each one, but it's protocol; they have to report it although no one ever mentions it or reprimands me. I'm guessing it's because 'Bombshell Duty' with me is the only time they'll get near any, but they're also consistent in admitting to indulging with me. It's the fact that the guys have had to delay opening the San Antonio office. No one has actually said anything about it but I've figured it out.

It makes me wonder, yet again, why the guys are putting me in charge. I want to know, but it takes more courage than I have to ask.

On Tuesday, Trenton Core asked me to call a meeting about the SharePoint project so they could demo it and start talking to the company liaisons and electronic guys about implementation. I decided to give them Thursday afternoon, so Hector set up the environment and arranged a conference video call to demo it and start the discussion. The strategists and liaisons were excited about it immediately, so they arranged their groups to discuss what to bring up and the order they intend to do it. I arranged training for Hector and the network guys. I can't wait to get some of these projects started. I'm already going stir crazy being in the building all the time. I need a distraction.

Tank, Lester and Bobby enjoyed spending Thursday going through the company finances, status reports, projections, and goals with me. Their biggest goal for the year was to grow the company by 6%. A lot of that growth could come from improving the Bond capture rate, so they encouraged me to hold a seminar in Trenton as soon as possible to teach the bonds and research people from around the company how I do it. The XOs were still here, so they were told to send a message to their Research people to send two or three of their best to Trenton for this little conference next week.

* * *

In keeping with my word to 'be Ranger', I'd met with Hal, Manny and Ram on 5 on Tuesday morning to discuss my new exercise and diet regime. In order to make me mobile, they'd gotten a wheelchair and some crutches so I could get myself to each floor via the elevator during the day. They'd also spent some time with Bobby to work out an initial training plan for me while I was on bed rest. Bobby stated that they needed to take care to ensure that it didn't look as if I was favoring the Trenton office all the time. Yes, I come from Trenton and I know everyone here, but for the next year I was CO of RangeMan LLC. I needed to appear to be neutral, and allowing the Trenton guys to order me around, even if it was to meet physical standards, might look like favoritism.

So Hal and Ram talked to Cal, a former professional bodybuilder, and he suggested hiring an outside physical therapist/trainer to work with me. Then it wouldn't appear that the Trenton guys had the luxury of ordering me around. I was worried; Cal has a different standard when it comes to fitness, above even RangeMan standards, but I want control of my life back. The quicker the better. Cal had recommended Sarah, a Marine, former athlete, and bodybuilder. She would bring me up to female military standards. They would still get to teach me security related skills, but when it came to the physical standards, someone else would be ordering me around. Oh well, so much for a catch.

This was my first morning with Sarah and it was not good. I was in the gym at 6AM, a miracle for me, and I wasn't happy. She didn't care. She and I had a meeting of the minds before I did a single exercise. Or, more correctly, she had a speech and it was too early for my brain to fire on all cylinders.

"Ms. Plum, it's a pleasure to work with you for the next few months, but I want to be very clear before we start. I'm here to strengthen your leg and get you up to female military fitness standards. That's what's in my job description. My job description says nothing about us being friends or even liking each other, and personally, you don't have to like me. I admire you because of everything I've heard about you, but it won't hurt my feelings if you don't like me."

I can't tell what kind of speech this is. Is this supposed to motivate me?

"I'm here because Calvin said that he wanted nothing but the best for you. I've known him forever, so I'm willing to bounce a client training for Ms. Universe to work with you instead. Please don't make light of my career sacrifice by giving me less than your best. I've been told to make this fun for you, to try non-traditional things, and I will, but there will be very traditional weight training and cardio work, too. I ask that you work with me to sculpt a better you."

I was too flabbergasted to say anything. I wanted to tell her that there was absolutely nothing in her speech to inspire or motivate me, and if she expected me to show up in the gym before the sun was up she had better change her approach. Plus, if her normal clients are the type training for Ms. Universe, she had just taken a severe career nose-dive with me.

She took advantage of my slack-jawed confusion to get me started on her regime. Sit ups, pull ups, push-ups, bench pressing, you name it; I did it, as long as I didn't have to stand up. By 6:55 AM I was covered in sweat and collapsed on the floor. The treadmill was not looking so bad.

"Well, you aren't as bad as I feared but we have a way to go. I'll be here every Monday thru Saturday at 6 AM to work with you. Schedule an hour for us, starting at 6AM sharp. I'll add five crunches for every minute you're late."

I tried quickly to think of another time for us to meet, but dammit, my schedule is already packed. It's either 6 AM or 6PM, and 6PM is dinner at Mom's if I ever intend to go. _Sigh_. I nod at her. 6AM it is, starting tomorrow.

* * *

The snow job is complete. I'm buried in paperwork. My schedule is completely filled with meetings, exercise, and scheduled time to bring me up to 'standards'. I want to scream, to run crying from all of it, but I won't. I can't. I promised Ranger I'd do this, and he asks so little of me compared to what he gives. I know that he's said that there's no price, but there is. I just don't want to do the math on that price. I promised him I would keep his company afloat. I promised Lester, Bobby, and Tank I would do this. I'm the cause of so much red ink at RangeMan Trenton that I have to correct this. I meant what I said Sunday afternoon; I have to fix this. I cannot be the reason the guys don't have jobs. I have to own this and make it right.

The only question now is: How?

* * *

**Ella's POV (**_**All conversations in Spanish**_**)**

Carlito is already gone and _mis sobrinos_ (my nephews) are leaving in tomorrow. For me, this is cause for great sadness but also for immense relief. When they clear out, I get to execute my plan.

You see, one of the best parts of being a retired lady with happily married children and no grandchildren (yet) is the amount of time I spend in planning and executing my own little plans and stratagems. The men think Lester is brilliant and I give him credit; in planning military schemes he has only Carlito as a peer. However, the boys think too small in this little caper. They think the entire onus is on Stephanie to change and improve. They give no thought to any changes needed by Carlito.

You see, I am a fan of Stephanie joining Carlito's life but only if he earns his position. Yes, yes, I know that he has given her the actions. He has saved her life, he has loaned her cars and men, and he has given her a job. Yes, I understand that it shows a love for her that goes beyond words. But she is a woman and a woman needs words. She needs actions and words, not one or the other. No woman likes to guess at a man's intentions, and that is what Carlito has had Stephanie doing for four years.

Yes, I can hear you saying that Stephanie has run back and forth between the _policía_ (policeman) and Carlito the entire time, but does that not show that she wanted to hear the _words_ from Carlito? She would not give her heart to the _policía_ because she needed to know how Carlito felt. She needed to know if she had a chance with him, if she would ever have a chance with him, and until she knew (or gave up) she would continue to wait for the day that Carlito gave her a clear answer.

It seems that perhaps the day has finally come. I saw her face before he left, overheard him tell her that they would talk about their 'relationship' when he returned, and I see that he is finally giving her some hope. So now I see that Carlito has finally given her some words and it has made all the difference. She is ready to tackle anything in order to have a relationship with him, and it makes me happy and furious at the same time. I am furious because she is settling. She is so desperate to be loved by him that she will bend herself beyond recognition in order to be with him, and I refuse to be a party to this. I recognize that she needs the training and I will work with the boys on that, but even if Carlito had not asked, I would never have removed the fats and sugar completely from her diet. It is not her. It is not who she is.

So I spent some time thinking about all I knew about their relationship and I realized that they didn't really have one. Not a real relationship, not a romantic relationship. I do not know what kind of romantic relationship Stephanie had with the _policía_, but I highly doubt it was a very romantic one. Friends with benefits, is that the saying? I'm not sure, but my plan for the year is to change Stephanie's thinking.

I want to raise her expectations. I want her to demand the romantic, thoughtful gestures that a man who loves a woman is happy to provide for her. Reloading her gun is not romantic. I've been married to Luis for 35 years and I still get yellow roses every Friday. He still praises my meals and pays for me to have my hair and nails done. We have a standing date night that not even Carlito interferes with. I want these things and more for Stephanie. If Stephanie makes these changes to have a relationship with Carlito then I am determined that Carlito will make some changes to finally prove his heart to Stephanie.

I knew that I needed a partner in order to carry this off. Luis is, of course, happy to participate, but Stephanie does not know him. I think she's met Luis three or four times in the past four years. It's not enough. Finally, I realized that Hector is the perfect partner for this. Hector is the only man in the entire company who does not have a partner. He adores Stephanie and would be happy to partner with her and train her. Hector is also a romantic, but working in this company, with his orientation (and having his deadly reputation), means that his heart is as guarded as Carlito's. He needs the practice of being romantic without losing his edge, and using Stephanie as a test case would be perfect for him. It would be a good match.

On Wednesday, as the boys were trying to determine who to place as the head of Stephanie's security, I very slyly muttered that I needed to see Hector about a malfunctioning camera. Once Hector's name was mentioned, I watched as the boys realized what I had. They were thrilled to have Hector partnered and I was thrilled to have my future accomplice in place. Plus, the boys thought it was their idea and I'm happy to let them take the credit.

Now that Hector has been informed, I think it's time to have a little chat with him. I go looking for him and find him in his office this morning. "Hector?"

"Yes?"

"I need your help."

His eyebrows raise. Hector is rarely asked for his help. "OK, Ella. What do you need?"

I detail my plan and expectations to him. As I talk, I can see that he is coming on board, and by the time I sit back to await his answer, he's smiling.

"I think we underestimate you, Ella."

"All of you do. I'm just as underestimated as you are." I smile knowingly and Hector blinks and drops his 'blank face' into place. "Too late. I've known for years and I've kept your secret. I think you should tell Stephanie, though. She needs to know, and it will build trust between you. Anyway, do you see any flaws in this plan?" I'm well aware that Hector is also a good strategist, and I need to keep this plan to people who could never be coerced to talk.

"A few. Let's map this out."

We spend the next hour determining a schedule for this plan. Hector has good ideas that I've never thought about and ways to incorporate the training the boys want her to receive into my plan. When I walk out, I feel much better about what I've decided to do and about my new partner. Hector is giddy (well, as giddy as Hector will show) about his portion of the plan.

Carlito had better watch out. The Stephanie he returns to will not be the same woman he left, in more ways than one.


	18. You Need to Know, Part I

**A/N: OK, if you aren't into company matters, this chapter may seem deadly dull, but it's Lester. **** He's gossiping and this contains important info for every following chapter. I mean it. At least 15 chapters flow off the information in the next two chapters.**

**Also, I'll release two chapters and a side story over the next three days, so enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 18: You Need to Know, Part I**

**Steph's POV**

**Lester dishes the dirt**

It's Friday afternoon. The guys told me last night that they each wanted to talk to me one on one about important issues they felt needed to be discussed. So I'm not completely surprised to hear a knock at the door after lunch. Lester is first, full of energy. He has frosting in one corner of his mouth and I glare at him and point at it. He goes to the bathroom to remove it and returns with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry." He grins. "Alright, grab a legal pad and get comfy. I'm giving you the scoop on every office and XO and anything else I can think of."

I pull another legal pad and grab a blanket to curl up on the sofa. Finally, someone willing to dish the dirt. I should've assumed it would be Lester. I need all the help I can get.

"Alright, let's start first with Trenton. I know you know the guys here, but tell me, what's the new command structure?"

"Umm . . . Hal is XO, with Junior as his partner and backup." Lester nods. "Manny is the head of Investigations and Bonds Enforcement and the internal strategist. Ram is the head of Client Services and external liaison."

"Good, but you left out some people."

I have to think about it for a minute. I'm not sure I've ever paid attention. Finally, I shake my head. I don't know. I know who took BLT's roles.

"Hector is the Head of Communications and Electronics for the Trenton branch and reports to Manny now for branch matters. He also holds that role within the company and he reports directly to you."

I write that down. Never knew that.

"Zero is the office medic, Junior is the new head of the security installs unit, and Woody is the new head of the monitoring unit. Binkie is responsible for the gym and gun range, and Caesar is in charge of the garage. Manny hasn't named someone for Apprehensions yet. And you, Beautiful, are the CO. You are a part of every office's command structure. Never leave yourself out."

I nod and draw a flow chart for the office structure.

"You already know the men here pretty well, so I won't spend any time here really, except to warn you about one thing."

I look up and Lester has a humongous grin on his face. "Hal is a different man from the man he was two weeks ago, Steph. Hal's new motto in life is 'What would Tank do?' and you should think about that before trying to get around him. He won't be so easily fooled. If you were to ask him for his stun gun now, he'd stun you first and worry about being yelled at later."

We both laugh, but I get his message. I have a mini-Tank on my hands . . . or a Tank clone. Yeah, Tank clone is better; Hal's as big as Tank himself.

"Alright, Atlanta. I want you to arrange to visit Atlanta first, and here's why: Danny will be incredibly supportive of you." I nod at that, remembering Danny's advice and support all week. "Reviewing the Atlanta office will give you an opportunity to review how the other offices run and something to compare to as you move from office to office. Danny is XO, his strategist is Chase and his liaison is Adam. Let him introduce his guys when you get there, OK?"

I nod and draw another flow chart with the Atlanta structure, placing myself at the top. Lester grins and gives me the thumbs up.

"Atlanta's territory stretches from Birmingham to Charlotte, three hours in all directions, so there are satellite offices within one hour driving time of downtown Atlanta and each other."

"I thought the geographical distance for any RangeMan office was 1 hour?"

"It is, but Atlanta is one we bought and this was the structure they had, so we kept it. Atlanta is such a big city with such a horrible traffic grid that without the satellite offices, we could never make our response times. It's actually a very good idea, one we are considering for each RangeMan office. Plus, three hours in each direction means we are covering three state capitals, are within one hour of two more, and are reaching at least half a dozen major cities within the three hour limit."

It still seems like too much to me, and I tell him so. He nods.

"It is a concern that we have, so we keep a very close eye on the Atlanta office. We may have to cut back or open another office, so it's something for you to watch. Another problem that they have is Bonds Enforcement. The territory is so large that they really depend on their searches to give them clues about where to find their FTAs. It's why they have the lowest capture rate in the company, and it's also the office where we have some of the biggest outstanding bonds. More than any others, we really wanted you to work with the Atlanta office to help them with their searches. They're at 88% this month, mostly because some of those searches you ran last week were for them."

Lester grins. "As usual, once you do a search, they had the FTAs at the cop shop within 72 hours. Two of them were long-standing federal fugitives, so your work there brought us $2.5 million."

I look at Lester in shock. I didn't think my work was that spectacular, but maybe it is.

"$2.5 million from just picking stuff out in searches?"

"Yeah, Beautiful, you're that good. Danny told half his research group to get up here next week so you can walk them through it. Anyway, that office's particular strengths are client services, i.e. armed guards for commercial clients and commercial monitoring, but I know that Danny wants to move into Hospitality."

"Yes, he mentioned it on Monday and I have to admit, I like the idea. It gives all the guys, even the ones with records, a chance to serve in the field."

"Good, I agree. You might want to give Atlanta's projections a review before you decide whether or not to green-light it. I held off because for a major conference you need hundreds of guys, and I'm not sure we could absorb that many guys into the branch unless we could get a steady stream of contracts for hospitality services."

Lester grins. He's giddy over all this. "This is a place where you can smooth our hard edges. You might be able to help them close enough deals that it becomes feasible. Just take care that Atlanta stays well under their cost projections. All it takes is another economic downturn or large scale disaster, ala the Olympic Park bombing, for us to have to lay off staff. We're proud of the fact that once we hire guys we don't have to lay them off, and I'd prefer to turn down work than have to lay off staff."

I agree with him on that point, so I make a note to make sure we have enough men, between full-time staff and contract guys, to meet the demand without having too many.

"Alright Beautiful, let's move to Miami. You've met Armando; his strategist is Diego, and his liaison is Thomas. Miami should be your second trip, and the biggest issue you'll face in that office will be the _machismo_ factor."

I make a face and another chart. "Want to explain that, Lester?"

Lester has stopped smiling and is completely serious. Actually, he looks somewhat troubled.

"Well, Beautiful, there are a lot of different meanings for it, but I prefer the old definition, which is the way a man carries himself with honor that was to be respected and imitated. Macho men were to have bravery, courage and strength as well as wisdom and leadership. I could go on but that's it in a nutshell, a man of courage, strength and honor who was to be admired. That's what we expect of every RangeMan. Unfortunately, the entire city of Miami has kinda overdosed on the idea, and it's been perverted into the idea that men are superior to women and that a woman's role is as a wife and mother in the home, not trying to do a man's job."

Lester chuckles. "Or a woman is meant to be a piece of arm candy, pretty but not all that bright. She's supposed to let the men handle their business and concentrate on her tan, her clothes, and her shoes. When I think of every Latina woman I know, I don't know where this idea has come from, because the women I know are more likely to kick my ass than the men."

"That might be because you're a manwhore, Les."

Lester looks at me, shocked, then he laughs. No, actually, he howls with laughter, and I join him. Lester's 'nighttime' activities are well known and his reputation for picking up women is legendary.

"Yeah, OK, I get around, I'll admit it. But," he sobers a little, "I don't believe women are inferior to me, and I don't treat them that way. Miami . . . well, it's hard to explain those guys." Lester shakes his head and frowns.

I know my face looks completely outraged now. In other words, the Miami guys don't think I can do my job. "So you're telling me that I'm going to have authority issues from the men in that office."

Lester nods. "In short, yeah. They know the Bombshell stories and they know about your success rate, but I'm sure they've attributed it to you just being lucky, not you having any kind of skill. I've already given Armando a heads up to give his men a heads up that disrespect to the CO will not be permitted, but you should still expect it_. _Although, I don't think you'll really run into disrespect as much as you will condescension. Because you're 'Ranger's woman,' " Les does the finger quotes," I don't think they'll be overtly disrespectful to you, since they worship the man, but I do expect them to be very condescending. I've advised Hal and Manny to go with you on that trip."

I start to make a protest, but Lester cuts me off. "No, not to fight your battles, Steph. I want them there as the face of the Trenton Office. Everyone in the company knows that the Trenton office doesn't play when it comes to you. As XO and Strategist, Hal and Manny can log official protests to your treatment as they see fit. If you were to do it, it might be seen as you not being able to take the heat or being overly sensitive or any number of offensive put downs. Besides, we leave it up to you to determine appropriate punishment for the offenders. No one can dish out inventive retribution like you can."

Lester is grinning again. I'm glad he finds this funny. I have condescending macho men to look forward to.

"Another factor is that Miami tends to think itself especially special because the company headquarters are there. They tend to think of themselves as first among all. That has to stop. The company is headquartered there for tax and legal reasons, but the command structure was always intended to be different."

"What do you mean?" I can't make heads or tails of that statement. At this, Lester is serious again and he leans back, staring at me. For a few minutes he doesn't say anything. "Lester, I get the feeling you're about to start easing your way into explaining something you think I won't like."

He gives me a small smile. "I am. I'm just trying to figure out how to say this." I try to raise an eyebrow, which gets a grin. "Not quite, Beautiful, but you'll get there. Alright, here's the deal. Please don't ever mention this again because I don't know if this is still his intention, but Ranger planned to move back to Miami eventually."

I'm certain I've just lost all color in my face. He was leaving? He was going to leave Trenton? Was he going to leave-? I can't finish that thought.

"Steph, there were multiple factors behind our decision to stay here in Jersey longer. One was that the CO had suddenly found a _compelling reason_ to stay here for a bit longer."

Lester is staring at me hard, hoping I've caught the hint. "However, we had decided that at some point we would each take over our duties from one particular office. For example, I would move to NYC, which is close to my family in Newark, and take over oversight of the Boston, NYC, and Trenton branches. Bobby is from Atlanta, so he planned to move back there and take oversight of Atlanta, which is one reason he will definitely want to know what's going on there from you. Tank's from Louisiana, so he was taking San Antonio and, if we ever opened them, Memphis and Detroit."

Lester stretches out on the couch and sips his water. I'm trying to absorb what I've just been told.

"Ranger was planning on moving back to Miami. This isn't an unknown plan to those who've been in the company longest, so knowing that the CO would eventually return to oversee the company from there has made the Miami office a bit smug. One of the most infamous Special Ops vets and black ops operators in recent history was coming back to the home office, the office of the 'manliest men'."

Lester's rolling his eyes. I get the feeling he's not that fond of the Miami office. "I don't know if that's still his plan, but in any case, the plan was way off into the future. And once we moved into Trenton, the plan suddenly seemed to be on 'indefinite hold'."

Les smiles at me and stretches his legs. "We're still too young to be tied to desks, so I would say that was the plan when we got closer to 40 or when we no longer met the requirements to be in the field. But it was the plan. So the Miami office really does believe that they are the best among all. So, be aware that they are the ones most likely to test you, mostly because they would prefer for you to do as they say, not the other way around."

Great. I have an office of Neanderthals to look forward to.

"Steph, you may want to make an extended trip to Miami. First, you'll be able to do a lot of company related things from that office but also to enjoy the culture and ambiance. You may find yourself having a _compelling_ _reason_ to want to move to Miami."

Lester, I have a compelling reason to move there now. Have you looked outside? It's cold, snowing, and the sky is soot. Not grey. Soot. Besides, Florida, the beach and the sun? No 'Burg, no gossip everywhere I go, no Mom throwing men at me all the time? Florida sounds great.

"Second, I suspect that something's wrong in that branch but I can't put my finger on it. Let your spidey-senses guide you there, Beautiful. See if you get anything."

I make another note. "My spidey-senses were tingling all during my meeting with Armando, so I agree. I got the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling me."

"Great. Now I know there's something wrong. Keep digging and see if you catch anything. I'll see what I can dig up."

Lester is smiling and I can't help but smile back, but I'm sad too. I never thought about Ranger and BLT not always being together. It's like breaking up the Musketeers or the Beatles. Ranger without Tank? No Lester? No Bobby? I'm not Yoko, I know that. Wait, if the guys go to San Antonio to open this office now, does that mean Ranger will join them in Texas when this op is over? No. Not right now. I don't want to think about that right now. These guys have become my closest friends besides Mary Lou, Connie, and Lula, and the idea that they won't be around frightens and saddens me.

Lester grabs some more water and returns to the couch. "Alright, ready to pick up?" I nod. "OK, Boston should be next."

I've had a difficult week with Mark, and I make a face. Lester grimaces. "Meeting with Mark not go well?"

"I get the feeling he's humoring me, and I don't like it. Plus, during the Monday meeting with the XOs, I asked each XO to introduce himself. When Mark introduced himself, it was like the entire room went cold. Even Hal didn't seem to like him. Know anything about that?"

Lester shakes his head and sighs. He curls up on the couch and gets comfortable. "Yeah, I know a lot about that. Here's the deal. Mark is the person that we've had run the company each time we've brought up a new office, including this one. If you'll recall, when we asked you to take this job we said we'd never use Mark again and here's why: Mark is too fucking nosy and he's forgotten his place."

Les looks supremely irritated, and I'm wondering what Mark could have done to piss him off so much.

"Mark is originally out of the Miami office. We placed him as XO in Boston and he's a great fit there. He knows the people, the office, and he's done a good job growing the branch. However, being in charge of the company while we brought up another office gave him access to files and paperwork we never want him to see again. He quickly understood that since this was an LLC, meaning that the partners shared the profits of the company, that each of us was a multi-millionaire. He wants to be a partner."

Holy shit . . . nope, not going to think about that right now . . . Ranger is that rich? Multi Millionaire? Multi? I know my eyes have gone big, and I must be pale because Lester is placing my head between my legs and telling me to breathe. I finally calm down, and Lester looks amused.

"Now do you understand why Ranger shrugs it off when you blow up his cars? Beautiful, when you do that, Ranger gets a massive tax break. Hell, Ranger pays less tax than the rest of us 'cuz he gets to write off everything that happens to you! I've been tempted to ask you to blow up one of my cars, but I'll never play with your life like that. Besides, the GTO was enough."

He's never going to forgive the GTO. Lester is cracking up now, and I'm starting to understand everything Ranger has done for me since I met him. God, it still hurts to know I'm a tax break but . . . it really isn't hurting him for me to blow up an expensive car. Hell, it's helping him.

"Yeah, so he wants to be a partner, and Bobby, Tank and I have voted hell no on that plan. Ranger agrees but he doesn't want to lose Mark from that branch, so he was straddling the fence. My objection to Mark is that Mark will eventually try to challenge one of us for our position and it will be ugly. I honestly think he would attempt to challenge Tank to be Chief XO and the beat down would be nasty."

"Is he that stupid?" Who would willingly challenge Tank?

"It's not stupidity as much as pride, Beautiful. He wants to stand next to Ranger in the pecking order, and he believes he's earned it. I believe he truly does worship Ranger and wants to be his right hand in any way possible. If he had two brain cells in his head he'd realize that it will never happen, but it's his goal in life. Unfortunately, he hasn't accepted that RangeMan is owned four ways, not one. Worshipping Ranger while pissing off the other three partners doesn't do him any good. His loyalty is to Ranger and whatever Ranger wants or believes, not RangeMan, not the partnership, not anything else"

I'm beginning to wonder about Mark's brains now. Did the high altitudes scramble his brains?

"Anyway, over the years, he's irritated every XO by continually poking his nose into the running of their office, questioning their decisions, and occasionally trying to overrule their requests. When he did it in NYC, shortly after we installed Javier, Ranger himself took Mark to the mats for insubordination. So, after hearing all that, I'm sure you're wondering why we left him in charge anywhere?"

I nod. "Seems like a ticking time bomb. Why not just remove him?"

"Because he grows RangeMan Boston at an annual rate of 9.5%. Because when we have left him in charge, he's grown the company at 5%. Because his men are loyal to him. Because after that beat down he became even more loyal to Ranger, and as long as Ranger is giving him the orders, he follows like a good soldier should. And because he does have significant leadership skills. He's a good man. He just doesn't know his place. He's seen the mountaintop and he wants to be there. And we haven't found someone good enough to replace him there."

Les leans forward and takes my hands. "Beautiful, I don't want to scare you, but I think that naming you the CO may have been the last straw for him. I see the next year with Mark going one of two ways. Either he will spend the entire year gathering evidence to try to prove to Ranger that we should not have left you in charge or he will attempt to subvert you at every turn. I feel pretty confident that he won't get any support from any office except _maybe_ Miami, but only because of the _machismo_ issues. That's why I wanted you to go to Miami and win them over first. Try not to go to Boston before you have Miami under your thumb, OK?"

I nod. One office with Neanderthal issues, the other with an XO who hates me. Wonderful, it's confirmed: I've been handed a complete snow job.

"Anyway, Mark was the person who called here the most last week, which completely irritated Hal and Ram, and Hal gave him a dressing down in Tank's office on Monday, which is why Hal doesn't like him."

Wow, Hal really has become a mini-Tank, er, Tank clone.

"Other than that, I don't have much to say about Boston," Lester continues. "It's the most well run, efficient office in the company. The bond capture rate there is second to Trenton, he's doing a great job growing our monitoring services, especially for commercial clients, which means big contracts, and he's got good ideas in his pipeline. I'm inclined to approve just about everything he wants to go after except, of course, the hospitality services. You can try to run a trial in both Atlanta and Boston to see if you feel comfortable adding that to the company roster, but the same rules apply. Patrick is the strategist and Rodney the liaison, so that's the core team there."

OK, good office to shadow for efficiency, but I shouldn't expect any warmth from the men. Got it. What do I do with an XO who is determined to hate me?

Lester looks at me and takes my hand. "Steph, don't feel that you necessarily have to do anything with Mark. It's his job to get along with you, not your job to bend over backwards to get along with him. If you feel you want to fire or reprimand him during the year, do it." Les sits back and grins. "Give Mark enough rope to hang himself! I have the feeling he'll make rapid and thorough use of it!"

Les looks giddy at the thought. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with an XO who hates me. How do you even begin to work with that kind of person?

"NYC should be last. Javier is very much like Danny and he should be very supportive. The biggest issue with Javier is that he has too many things he could go after and not enough men. We have an issue with recruitment and staffing in NYC, mostly because the pay issues are a problem. RangeMan pay is some of the best in the industry, but the men we would like most can make the same amount of money as private bodyguards, which is a reason why our personal bodyguarding services aren't big there, but Javier wants to grow them. I see this as a problem with Shane, his strategist, who is a former bodyguard."

Les shakes his head and stands up. He paces around the room for a while. I think he just needed to move; Les can never really sit still for long.

"He really can't see beyond that, so Shane may need to be reassigned. You need a visionary as strategist, and I don't think Shane is it. So Javier needs more services in his pipeline and more men to staff them. If you want to give some men short-term transfers to NYC or increase the number of contract workers there, go for it. He just needs support and a plan. Better yet, take Manny with you on that trip. He would probably be the best person to help you iron out NYC. Liam is his liaison, a good guy with a hard job. Another thing I want you to be aware of in the NYC office is that Javier is a gossip."

Really Lester? You're calling someone else a gossip? He grins. Great, I said it aloud again!

"Yup, I'm calling him as a gossip, and he's a bad one because when I gossip, I tell people I can trust to keep their mouth shut. Think about all the gossip I've given you and think about how many people in this office knew about it."

I take a few moments and I realize that Lester is right. Tank, Bobby, Ranger and I would always know what Lester was talking about, but I'm not sure if I ever heard any of it repeated on the floor. Lester's floor talk is on women, sports, pranks, and business matters.

"When Javier gossips, it gets back to Bobby before close of business. We know way more about the running of the NYC office than Javier believes we do, and it's all because he and his men have loose lips. The activities of the Trenton office are a mystery to the entire company because the men here don't tell tales." OK so Javier talks too much and his men follow suit.

"OK Beautiful, any questions?"

I can't think of any at the moment. I've gotten the scoop on each XO, their offices, and their Core Team. I have enough to think about right now. Jeez, what could Tank and Bobby have to talk about?


	19. You Need to Know, Part II

**Chapter 19: Things you need to know, Part II**

**Steph's POV**

**Bobby speaks out**

30 minutes later Bobby walks in, looking happy and content. He immediately hugs me, a long tight hug. Bobby and I joke around a lot but he's more a side-hug man, so to get a big bear hug from him is really surprising and touching. I start to sniffle and he chuckles and passes me his handkerchief. We sit down on the couch and he pulls me close.

"It occurred to me this morning, as I walked around my empty apartment and office, that I'm not going to see you very much over the next year. No seeing your smile, or watching you eat your junk, or responding to your distress calls. I realized how much I was going to miss it." He smiles, a full on Bobby smile. I don't spend nearly as much time with him as I do Tank and Lester, and I'm regretting it now. Bobby has a way of making you feel that everything will be OK. "Knowing you has kept my skills fresh, Bomber." We both laugh.

"Always glad to be of service, Bobby."

"Well, look, I know that Tank and Lester are going to spend their-one-on one time with you cramming in whatever last minute company matters they can think of, but I want to talk about you."

Uh oh. First sign of trouble.

"No, not what you think, or should I say, not nearly as bad as you think. I know you had your first session with Sarah this morning. How did you like her?" Bobby asks.

"I don't. She doesn't even care if I like her."

"Well, that's what makes her a good trainer and therapist. Her focus is on your health and recovery. When a trainer starts worrying about whether or not their client likes them more than they are concerned about the client's recovery, the recovery suffers. I checked her out fully, and Cal really came through; she really is one of the best." I make a face and he chuckles. "Yeah I know, but from all her previous clients I only heard the best things. That made her acceptable for you."

"They were probably too scared to say otherwise," I grumble.

He laughs. "No, they were honest. Apparently she has a standard speech she gives, which I'm guessing you got, and over the weeks and months all her clients really began to like and trust her. That standard speech just gives you the freedom to feel OK about hating her at first. I am asking that you give her a chance." I nod. "Great, Bomber, thank you. Now to the part of the conversation you won't like."

I knew it was coming.

"I know that you didn't like Hal making a point about your devotion to your junk food and your reluctance to carry a gun, and I'm sorry he felt he had to make that point, but Bomber, it is a real concern. Look at me."

I look Bobby directly in the face, and he's completely serious. "The other XOs have all quietly said the same thing to us, that they don't want to have rebellions in their staff because the CO is known for not meeting RangeMan standards. We've told them how we expect them to handle it, but Bomber, you have to be seen publicly as striving to meet standards. Anything less will cause the XOs trouble. That's why we've gotten you the best trainer we can find, someone who is committed to making you better, and she knows what is required of her. We wrote the requirements into the contract and specified monthly goals for you to reach, and she's got to ensure you meet them in order to get paid so believe me, she will push you. When you travel, she will travel with you so you don't lose any training days."

Oh great, my trainer has an outside incentive to try to kill me and I can't get any breaks from her. If I don't meet standards, she doesn't get paid.

"Ella will take care of your diet, and she's already been on the phone to every housekeeper in RangeMan to give them the parameters they have to work with. I know Ranger said that you had to be allowed a certain amount of sugar because of 'jelly hormones,' " his eyebrow raises in question but I merely nod, "so they will take care of that. However, expect to be tested publicly. I would not be surprised to find that each staff presents you with sweets or doughnuts upon your arrival in their office and if you take it, you've just given them carte-blanche to ignore the rules during your visit. Be aware of the traps. The XOs will help you, but they will try not to undermine your authority so you have to stay aware."

My shoulders droop, but I nod. I'm not exactly the best at being aware of my surroundings, so now I'm going to have to rely on spidey-sense and being suspicious.

"As far as the rest of the standards, the Trenton guys are looking forward to training you, but I told each XO to think of some men on his staff that can teach you certain skills. I know that both the Miami and NYC offices have some of the best drivers in the company, so expect driving lessons at each location."

I'm a Jersey girl. Do I really need driving lessons?

"Yes, you do need driving lessons because the stuff they will teach you is stuff you can't learn on the Turnpike." He smiles. I have to stop speaking my thoughts out loud.

"Last thing. Stephanie, you mean the world to me. I love you, as my sister and my dearest friend. I don't know when you decided that your life didn't matter, that your loss from the world wouldn't affect those around you, that you were expendable, but I'm here to tell you that you are not expendable."

I tear up again. I never expected Bobby to say that. It's like being back in my living room two weeks ago, when Lester asked me the same thing. When did the guys get this idea that I have a death wish? I feel Bobby hug me again and we sit in silence for a moment.

"I want you to know that we felt that it would be unfair to designate one XO over another to be the head of your security, so we asked Hector to become your partner and the head of your personal security."

I look at Bobby in confusion. "I don't get it. Why do I need personal security and why Hector? He doesn't even speak English."

"He's a senior level manager within the company so it's not inappropriate for him to be your partner. Plus, Hector is feared both within the company and without, and we know that he will take your security as a matter of personal honor. Don't try to give him the slip; it won't work. Please don't remove your trackers and panic button because he's the person monitoring them."

I wonder who else monitors my trackers.

"If he can't go with you when you move from place to place and office to office, Hector will coordinate your security with the XOs so that the arrangements in place meet his standards, which we feel will be higher than anything anyone else will come up with. Because of the SharePoint project, he may end up traveling with you in order to coordinate that. Trust him, Bomber. He will keep you alive." I nod. "None of us, me, Tank, or Lester want to get a call in San Antonio that you've been injured. The men know that the SOPs in regards to you remain in place."

"Why do I need personal security?" I ask.

"Until we are certain that you can handle all threats to your safety and security on your own, we want someone watching your back 24-7. It all comes back to the RangeMan standards. Every man has a partner watching his back unless he's offline. Ranger has Tank as his partner and the person watching his back, and vice versa, and Lester watches mine, vice versa, so we needed to designate someone for you, someone neutral. That person is Hector. Hector doesn't have a partner, mostly because of his rep, so you are the perfect person for him. He gets the joy of being partnered with his _Angelita_ and you get the most feared man in the company, after Ranger." Bobby grins. "We finally get Hector partnered up, and he will take your safety personally."

So now I have a personal bodyguard, one who doesn't speak English? Great. Where's the gun range? I gotta get some control back over my life. These RangeMan standards will drive me up the wall.

"Wait a minute! I thought you said all RangeMen had to have a partner. Why doesn't Hector have a partner?"

Bobby laughs quietly. "Ranger granted him a special dispensation when he hired him. Let's just say that Ranger was well aware that no one was coming after Hector, not if they valued their life. Hector is his own Luca Brasi."

Umm . . . if Bobby is comparing Hector to Luca Brasi then I think it's in my best interest not to give Hector the slip.

"What about Ram, Manny, and Hal?"

"Hal's partner is and will remain Junior. He's designated Junior as his backup, so it's a good move, especially as Junior took Hal's place as the head of the security installs unit. Ram's partner was Binkie and Manny's partner was Caesar, so Ram and Manny will become partners and Binkie and Caesar will become partners."

I think about this; it's a complete partner shuffle. "It's normal when we leave an office and the men have to resettle themselves into new partnerships and patterns. It's healthy too. Binkie and Caesar had to work together during the week the new Core Team was running the office so they had a week to get used to each other. If they couldn't take it, they need only tell Hal now."

"Final thing you need to know. Tank, Lester and I will be the ones giving you the final clearance to return to the field. You will be tested with and against us, none others and we've told each XO, and Ram and Manny, that you are not to do any field work, not even surveillance, until we clear you. As CO, it could be argued that the XOs cleared you because you have authority over them, so our clearing you sidesteps that argument, if anyone is stupid enough to make it."

I'd thought about that. Does that make me stupid, or just lazy? In any case, if BLT is clearing me, I'll be chained to a desk until I meet the standards. If I ever want any control over my life over the next year, I'll have to meet the standards and fast.

My new goal has become meeting the standards in six months. I have to. I need control over my life back.

* * *

**A Night Out with Tank**

Tank sent a message, via Ella, for me to be dressed and ready to go out by 6PM. Ella helped me find an appropriate outfit, a long soft knit Jersey dress in a gorgeous dark blue color and one low-heeled boot to offset the cast. I meet Tank in the garage, where he bundles me into his personal car, a bronze Cadillac Escalade with leather interior. It even smells like Tank, warm, strong, and completely in control.

"Tank?" I get a glance out of the side of his eye. "Where are we headed?" He simply smiles and we pull up in front of the bonds office. The next thing I know, Lula and Mary Lou are climbing into the back seat while Connie locks the office.

"Hi Tank! Hey Steph! Do you know where we're going?"

I shake my head. Mary Lou looks great in her tight leather pants and cowl neck sweater. Her hair is done in soft curls and she looks happy to be out of the house.

"Well damn, White Girl! It's about time you finally made it outta that building. Shit, me and Connie thought we was gonna have to go all Mission: Impossible to see you."

I see Tank's mouth twitch out of the corner of my eye, and I know he's contemplating the probability of Lula's success. I give her 5%. Climbing seven flights of stairs would be the first thing to stop her.

I finally notice that Lula is not dressed in Spandex. Instead, she's in a hot pink, knee-length leather skirt and matching cable knit sweater with knee-high black stiletto boots. The sweater is scoop neck, so her rather impressive cleavage is still on display, but she's actually wearing something appropriate for her body and the weather. Bright tropical colors, but still, it fits appropriately.

"Where we headed? Tankie wouldn't tell Connie nuthin'."

I can see Tank cringe slightly at that. This is great. Connie has a fresh lip wax and teased hair. She's dressed similarly to Lula, only in black, and she greets Tank before shutting the door and locking her seatbelt. I'm suddenly grateful I'm wearing my best pushup. I still have the smallest chest here by miles, but I'm not pathetic.

Tank continues driving into Lawrenceville, a quiet suburb between Trenton and Princeton, and stops at Acacia, a restaurant my budget can never afford. Mary Lou and I exchange a glance. This is going to be a great evening. Tank made a 7PM reservation, so we're quickly shown to our seats. Wine is ordered and we review the menus. Everything looks great (Boar? They have boar on the menu? Isn't that just fancy pig?) but I settle on the rack of lamb with the mixed green salad and calamari for an appetizer.

"Save room for dessert, Little Girl." Tank says. Dessert? I'm going to be allowed dessert? I know I look excited, and he smiles. "You've done well with the diet this week."

I smile back. Ella's cooking. I just have to eat.

"OK Steph, give us the scoop. What happened to your leg, and how long before you're back at work? Vinnie is being a weasel and auditioning people for your job. I'm doing my best to slow him down, but he's determined to get someone in there and I can't hold him back for long," Connie says.

"The leg is fractured, and I'm not coming back," I reply. Connie and Lula looked shocked and Tank has a small smile on his lips. "For the next year, I'm running RangeMan."

"Whatchu mean, you running RangeMan? We're partners! How you gon' make big decisions like that without saying nuthin' to me?" Lula is upset at this news, and Tank passes her his handkerchief. She shoots him a look that promises retribution.

I feel Tank squeeze my leg slightly. Clearly he hasn't told her he's moving to San Antonio yet, so I need to tread carefully.

"I'm sorry Lula, but the guys asked me to run the office for a while. Ranger is going in the wind and the guys have a project going on, so I'm in charge of the office for the next year." I'm careful not to say I'm in charge of the company. If I say that, the entire 'Burg will know by morning.

"OK, so where you going, Tank? And when was you gon' tell me?" Lula is livid at Tank and is having problems keeping her voice down. Tank merely stares at Lula till she calms down. It takes a while.

"San Antonio. I'm leaving tomorrow for a year. I left voicemails for you to call me." Wow. I think Tank's used his monthly allotment of words on that statement.

Lula sits back in shock, then stands up and walks toward the restrooms. Tank sips his water while Connie and Mary Lou look at him, and Lula's departing back, in shock.

"Mary Lou, Connie, help me up." Tank looks over at me in alarm, and I motion for him to sit back down. I understand where's he's coming from, that Lula set this mess up by not calling him back, but damn, he coulda dropped this news on her in private before he picked us all up. Has he no sensitivity?

We make our way to the restrooms, which are blocked. "Lula? Lula, it's me. Let me in." The pressure on the door decreases, and we walk in and lock the door. Lula is sitting on a bench in tears.

"I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. Ain't no man that damn good gonna stay with me. Tankie is a real man. Why would he want me?"

Connie and I sit on either side of Lula and rub her back. She's really devastated by this.

Mary Lou squats down in front of her and rubs her hands."Lula, Tank is angry at you right now because he wanted to tell you that in private. Doing it this way was the worst way, but you kinda didn't leave him with much choice. Tank likes you, and he was hurt by your refusal to talk to him. Until you asked him where he was going, you hadn't said a word to him all night."

I think back over all the conversation in the car and realize that, yet again, Mary Lou is right. Lula's first words to Tank tonight were angry because she was hurt.

Lula's jaw clenches, but finally she relaxes. "You suck. You was supposed to come in here, tell me he was an asshole, and make me feel better without makin' me feel guilty."

Mary Lou laughs. "I've been told that numerous times this week." She cuts her eyes at me, and I pretend not to notice. "Anyway, let's get back out there. Our appetizers should have arrived, and you can take the time to calmly ask Tank about his plans. If he doesn't want to talk, don't push it. Just ask if you can talk to him later tonight."

Lula nods and uses Tank's handkerchief to dab at her eyes. We return to the table and, sure enough, the appetizers have appeared. I watch Lula take a deep breath and swallow. She doesn't know how to start this conversation. Thank God for Connie.

"So you, Lester, and Bobby are moving to San Antonio tomorrow?" Tank nods. "Are you flying or driving?"

"Driving."

"Anyone else going with you?"

"Yes."

She waits, and it becomes a stand-off before Tank adds, "We're pulling men from all over the company."

"Who's taking your place in Trenton?" Our meals have arrived.

"Hal."

They look at me, and I answer before they can ask.

"Yes, Hal is the guy I stunned to go to Valerie's shower." Tension broken, we laugh and tuck into our meals.

Before dessert, Lula asks if they can talk later tonight. Tank nods and sits back. Clearly, he got what he wanted from tonight's dinner.

* * *

The trip back to RangeMan is quiet. I want to rip Tank a new one for what he did, but at the same time I understand why he did it.

"Little Girl, I didn't have much to say to you tonight. I trust you to do the job well. I really just wanted you to have a good time tonight. I'm sorry I messed that up."

I didn't expect an apology, so I decide to meet him halfway. "I had a great time tonight, Tank. I think you could've handled Lula better. There was nothing stopping you from showing up at her apartment or the Bonds Office to talk to her in person."

Tank is quiet then nods.

"I calculated Lula and Connie's success at a Mission: Impossible breakout at 5%. What did you calculate?" I really want to see what Tank thinks and I love when I can make Tank laugh.

"11%. I factored in the 'Plum Curve'."

"The Plum Curve?"

"The automatic 10% we give any plan, scenario, or situation that involves you. The stairs might stop them, but who knows what skills Connie might pull out of her bag? While Lula is distracting the men, Connie might get the elevator hot-wired."

I consider that and we both laugh.

We finally arrive back at Haywood and Tank carries me back up to 7. He asks Ella to return in an hour, turns on the TV and brings me a beer. We stare at the TV for a while before Tank mutes it and turns to me.

"Little Girl, our lives are hard. We work from sunup to sundown and we see the worst of human nature sometimes. It's one of the biggest reasons the men here love you; you're like a breath of fresh air and hope in this place. Make time for your friends. That was why I called the girls together for you tonight. You'll need to take time to be around other people just to shake off the workload and sadness you'll see as the head. Take the girls with you when you visit other offices. Find ways to have fun. Don't allow this job to beat you down."

Tank holds my hand and, again, I'm surprised. Tank isn't touchy-feely either.

"My way of handling stress is to go fishing." He smiles. "Open water, fish don't expect me to talk, and I get to eat my success. Lester hits the gym and goes through his katas repeatedly. Nothing scarier than that motherfucker with his blades in hand, but it calms him. Bobby would fly home to Georgia and visit his family."

I nod. I see what Tank is saying. I need an outlet. I don't have one besides shopping, and I need to find something I can do to keep me sane, unless I want to take an entire security team shopping. Then Tank surprises me.

"Ranger would go see you." I blink. "If he came back calmer and more focused, every man here would thank God for you all over again."

I smile at that thought. I could always feel Ranger's presence in my bedroom, but Ranger's like smoke. I could never catch him, but I guess it didn't matter.

"What did he do when I stayed at Joe's?" I can feel Tank tense up.

"When you stayed with the cop I spent hours cursing his existence. Ranger would run me through the paces on the mats or demolish punching bags, his old methods of coping." Wow. . . I'll think about this later.

"Invite Lula out to San Antonio to visit you, Tank." He looks at me in surprise. "Seriously. Lula still expects you to walk away someday and this year long trip to San Antonio just confirmed it in her mind. If you're serious, give her some hope to live off. Tell her you'll bring her out when you're more settled out there. She'll be more interested in traveling to see you than traveling anywhere with me."

We finish our beers and Tank takes me to the bedroom. He kisses the top of my head and smiles. "We leave at 5 AM tomorrow. The entire trip should take between 24-30 hours, so we should be there by noon Sunday, give or take an hour. Little Girl, if you need us to come back here, at any point, you need only call. Don't hold off because you don't want to be a bother. We're here to back you up."

With that, Tank leaves. In a few short hours, the last of my safety net will leave me and I'll be all alone here in Trenton. Way too much responsibility and not enough support.

I miss Ranger.

* * *

**OK, so it's time for a side story. Check out Chapter 1 of Change in the Wind: The Side Stories. Chapter Title: Don't Say Sh!t You Don't Mean.**


	20. Making It Clear

**Chapter 20 – Making It Clear**

**Manny's POV (the next Monday****)**

Even though I've worked with Steph for three years, I'm asking the majority of RangeMan Trenton Research to attend this workshop on how she does what she does. Each office was required to bring the files on their five biggest outstanding skips. Hopefully, what they would learn from Wifey would help them catch these guys.

Wifey doesn't consider what she does very special or innovative, but at RMTrenton, it's well known that if you can't find someone, sneak the search into Steph's pile. She'll find them. Ranger got pissed when he realized what we were doing. Evidently some of the searches we removed were searches for him.

After that morning on the mats, we were very careful about how we 'modified' her workload.

Bright and early Monday morning—OK, 0900—Wifey wheels into Conference 1, our largest conference room. Danny called half his research department up too, so the room is packed. There are at least 40 men in here, waiting to learn from the best. She blinks in surprise when every man in the room stands up and comes to attention.

"Umm . . . at ease?" The confusion and blush on her face make most of the men smile and sit down. "Good morning. I'm Stephanie Plum and this morning I'm going to walk you through my process for finding information. I warn you, this is **my** process. It works for me."

Every man nods. Don't downplay yourself, Steph. Every man in here knows you're the best.

Over the next hour, Wifey walks us through her process. It's completely intuitive. No man in the room understands it. It appears to rely on gut feelings and hunches, not facts. I can see that we've hit a wall of frustration. I approach Wifey.

"Steph?" I can sense her frustration at not being able to better explain how she does it.

"Yeah?"

"Suggestion. Send the men on a break. 15 minutes."

She gives the order, and everyone hits the break room. I take a moment to look at her. Sarah has already worked her to the bone, and I'm sure the meetings since have stretched her nerves. I smile and rub her hands.

"Find the biggest outstanding skip in the room. Work through the file as an example so the men can see your thought process. Give them an idea of how to approach this from a different angle, and don't get frustrated. You're trying to teach them something completely new. They need time to process it."

Steph nods and smiles at Ram as he brings her a snack. The men file back in.

"OK, I've been trying to explain how I do this. How about I show you how I do this? Who has the most expensive skip in the room?"

Immediately the room is filled with the call of dollar amounts and time outstanding. Atlanta wins on both counts. David Yurick. $5 million bond. Outstanding for nine months. Damn!

Over the next 15 minutes, Jacob from Atlanta reads us the file. David Yurick. Six counts of assault and battery, two counts of murder, two counts attempted murder, four counts of statutory rape, 156 counts of child pornography. Many, many more charges. Great guy. A former high school history teacher with one allegation of inappropriate sexual behavior toward a female student, which the school system dismissed. I'm betting they regret that. He was enjoying his life as a budding porn kingpin when one girl's boyfriend found out. He didn't appreciate his girlfriend doing 'extra credit work' with teacher on tape, and he and his friends went to teacher's house in order to teach him a lesson. They got taught instead.

How in the hell did this guy get bail? Oh, he was arraigned on the assault and attempted murder charges and pled not guilty, self-defense. It looked kinda likely at the time; the cops found the boys' fingerprints on the baseball bats they'd brought. Yurick had no prior charges, a history of great teaching credentials and awards, and was known for helping school organizations— in short, the ideal teacher. They found the porn stash after he was granted bail and added the other, non-murder charges after. Because it was statutory rape and child porn, bail was rescinded and he went FTA. One ex-wife and three kids in Duluth, three legal aged ex-girlfriends, and not one of these women had anything good to say about him. Smart ass. Always had to be right. Walking Encyclopedia Britannica. Didn't score high enough on the LSAT to go to the law school he wanted, although he could have gone anywhere else. Parents live in Alabama.

The guys continue to read everything they've found out about this guy. They've been searching for him in Duluth and in Anniston, but his family say they never see him. The guys are pretty sure they're lying, but multiple stakeouts of both houses have yielded nothing. His friends haven't seen him either. His children hear from him on occasion but nothing regular. His church family hasn't heard from him, although the pastor says he calls for guidance on occasion. No one that knows him has seen him. He's still using his credit cards regularly and debit cards sporadically.

Steph is bending back in her chair, eyes closed.

"He's still using his debit cards?"

"Occasionally," Jacob answers.

"Locally?"

Jacob looks surprised. Every man in the room is surprised to see that the corners of Steph's mouth are tilted up. RMTrenton realizes that she's caught the scent.

"Yeah."

"Same area, different location, same time each month?"

Every man now realizes what RMTrenton has.

"Uh . . . Yeah . . . ."

"OK Steph," Benny says. "You've caught his scent. Tell us. What tipped you off?"

Yeah, do tell. I spent 10 years in the Bureau, and all I have is that this guy is an ass.

"Tell me what you know about him so far."

Every man in the room is stumped. We don't know shit useful about him.

Steph smiles. "Don't think about right or wrong answers. Tell me what you think. This is a friend of yours. He's just been charged and you get this file. What does it tell you about this guy that you think you know?"

I'm thinking hard. "Well, he's pretty fucking arrogant to use his credit and debit cards in the same places. Staying local is stupid."

Everyone in the room starts chiming in.

_"He's not afraid of being caught."_

_"He thinks he's innocent."_

_"Nah, he knows he's guilty. That's why he's using the credit cards. He won't have to pay them back once he's in jail."_

"_Dude, that's cynical as hell."_

"_We deal with criminals. Ya gotta be cynical."_

_"He's thought about this. He had a plan together for being on the run."_

_"A history teacher means he's studied people in the past. Studied the behavior of famous people, famous murderers even. He doesn't plan to make any mistakes."_

_"He lives in other people's stories."_

We continue for another 10 minutes before Wifey raises her hand. "Here's what I got so far. This is a man desperate to be seen as brilliant, desirable, an expert. In his world, there are people who admire and respect him and think he's an expert and people who don't. He no longer needs the people that don't see him the way he wants to be seen, so he won't be in contact with them. This includes family and friends. He maintains minimal contact with his kids because no matter what, he's still Daddy. They'll still believe in him."

I consider what Jacob said earlier. Walking Encyclopedia Britannica. Smart ass. History teacher. Could have gone to law school. He likes facts. He needs to feel important. This man lives to be right. Wifey's correct. Young girls won't question him; they'll accept what he says as gospel and they can be talked into anything. Teenage girls think they know everything about men.

"He respects power and authority, which is why he's still in contact with the pastor. Also, religious men look good as character witnesses. He's local but not in Duluth. Look at an area similar to Duluth but not nearby. Common sense says you look at family and friends, but they don't respect him anymore so anyone he's in contact with right now will be new and won't be in the file. Jacob, close the file. No one from Atlanta answers. OK guys, gimme this guy's physical description."

I immediately think medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes and that description is being echoed around the room. I'm starting to see Wifey's point. This guy will blend in everywhere. No wonder he's not afraid of being caught. There's nothing about him to set off any alarms. So, how has Wifey caught the scent?

"Ask any woman; we would term this guy the 'Amateur Lawyer.' He has thwarted ambitions and a deep desire to always be right. It's important to him, and because he's so knowledgeable about so many things, you just let him have his way. Problem is, he **always** has to have his way, and after a while it's annoying. Out in public he's like everyone else, but what sets him apart is the feeling of being special. That's why he still uses his credit cards. Why he still uses them in the same places. He's taunting you."

He's winning if that's his plan.

"He knows everyone's looking for him, and he's out in plain sight, but he's the kind of guy everyone overlooks. Let me guess. Somewhere between 5'8" and 5'11"? Medium build. Brown hair and eyes. Glasses, wire frames that disappear into his face. Lives in khakis and button downs."

Jacob is staring at Wifey in awe. "Yeah, that's him exactly."

Now every man is sitting forward, watching Wifey smile. "Search further back. High school, middle school. Get his school clubs and awards."

Jacob immediately hits a legally 'grey' search engine and pulls the information. "Mock Trial, Spelling Bee, Academic Bowl, Academic Decathlon. Actually," Jacob counts, "seven years of Academic Bowl and four years of Academic Decathlon. Two years of Mock Trial." Jacob starts searching again. "He did four years of Academic Bowl and Mock Trial in college, too . . . Wait a minute . . . ."

Now Jacob is excited. We're all watching him. Every man crowds around him, trying to get as close as we can. Finally, Ram leaves the room and returns with a display cord. We put Jacob's display on the projector screen.

"SHIT! His cards are always used within 20 minutes of Duluth. There's a Dave and Buster's in Duluth! 11 fucking years of Academic Bowl and he was the faculty advisor for Academic Bowl at his school. That would be the place he'd go. Useless fuckin' trivia, a chance to feel like an expert, like the smartest fucker in the room. I'll bet you this is the kind of cocksucker that applied for Jeopardy!"

Steph smiles. "What's the Dave and Buster's farthest away?"

Jacob looks confused. "Umm . . . Marietta."

"Start there."

"Why?"

"Because while you're searching Duluth trying to find him through his credit cards, he's going to be on the other side of the city using cash. Debit card transactions, remember? So you'll waste a day trying to stake out one area when he's actually in another."

The Atlanta guys are smiling. Danny calls the office and immediately mobilizes a search team. Within 45 minutes, they call back. The waiters and waitresses at the Marietta Dave and Busters certainly recognized Jonathan Smith. He's extremely popular, one of the regulars. Everyone wants him on their team, but he's only there on Tuesdays, four days after all the hits on his debit cards. He always orders the same thing and pays in cash. He tips really well and is very popular with the staff.

The Atlanta guys will be back tomorrow night to join their long missing friend.

Everyone in the room is cheering and hyping up Atlanta. A $1 million payday might be in custody **tomorrow,** and Steph is smiling.

"Shall we hit the next one?"

* * *

As the day wears on, it becomes clear that Wifey is either a natural psychological profiler or she's dealt with a lot of shitty men. We work through Atlanta's five files and by close of business Monday, Atlanta has visuals on all five of their highest subjects. Every office in the room realizes that Wifey's skills are immense.

"The thing to understand when looking for these guys, the really big bonds, is that they have every reason **not** to want to be found. So the normal rules don't apply. Don't bother with family unless you're looking at second cousins. Friends from high school or middle school, weak links, not the people they talk to all the time. Take a look at their habits and obsessions to determine where they would go. And unless they have independent skills, someone is helping them or they're living off credit."

She smiles. "But sometimes, when that doesn't pan out, you have to go with the obvious, even if it seems wrong. Sometimes the obvious answer has more paths than any other. But always go for the obvious last, once you've eliminated everything else. Manny?"

I look up. Wifey's writing on a sheet of paper. She folds it and hands it to Ram.

"Yeah?"

"If I went FTA and you had to search for me, where would you go?"

Here. I'd come directly here. Which makes it the wrong answer, right? Everyone knows Wifey would come directly here. So, where else would she go? She would last a decent amount of time on her own, but she'd make a mistake sooner or later, probably trying to contact family or friends. She'd run out of money pretty quickly too. I realize that this is a really hard question. The best place for Wifey to hide would be wherever Ranger put her . . . of course. Wifey would immediately come here; this is where she came during the Slayers drama. Ranger would hide her, and no one would find her because no one could make Ranger talk. No one could make RangeMan Trenton talk.

It's the obvious answer and because of it, anyone searching for her would dismiss RMTrenton even though it's the right answer. No one would think she'd be crazy enough to go right where everyone expects her to go, and everyone would know that if she did go to Haywood they'd have no chance of retrieving her. Bring all the search warrants you want. We'd have her off the property and into a safe house within an hour, possibly less. There are, at minimum, 40 different people who could hide her even if Ranger were not around. The effort required to find her would be immense.

Damn. The obvious answer has more paths than any other.

"I'd write you off, Steph."

Every man from RangeMan Trenton laughs. Wifey smiles. "Why?"

"Because there's at least 40 different men who would hide you, not to mention the safe houses we have access to. Every man at RangeMan Trenton would have to be investigated and none would talk. You're a loss as an FTA."

Wifey motions for Ram to open the piece of paper. Ram cracks up.

'7th floor until further notice. Totally obvious but good luck finding me if I reach this building.'

Every man in the room laughs.

* * *

**Danny's POV**

I'm glad I stuck around the entire week for Stephanie's workshop. By the time I landed back in Atlanta Friday night, I felt I knew much more about skip tracing than at any other time in my life. Hell, my men were excited about everything they learned and were asking her to come present to the other half of our Apprehensions team.

While we were there, we pulled more of our outstanding FTA files and applied the skills we learned to those files. We halved the backlog. In one week. $8 million dollars pouring into my budget. Unbelievable. I wish I'd asked Chase to come here, because he would have loved this. Marcus, the head of Bonds Enforcement, is going to be kicking himself later. He didn't want to go to his wife's family reunion, and knowing he missed out on this will just annoy him more.

Javier and I have agreed that we now understand why the Leadership Core left her in charge. Even with her leg in a cast and seated, she's commanding. Powerful, but in a quiet way. She has good humor and charm about her and she's willing to help anyone. It's also clear the Trenton men love her. The ones not attending the workshop brought her snacks and water every two hours. They brought her messages during the breaks. They reminded her of her meetings. I've never seen this kind of open adoration for anyone at any office.

It's an entirely different standard of affection and care and the Trenton men thrive from it. I mean, I like Rose, our housekeeper, but I'm not as loving to her as the men here are to Ella Guzman. The food is much better here than anywhere else, and Ella anticipates our needs as well as Ms. Plum's. I spilled mustard down the front of my shirt and Ella popped up 5 minutes later with a replacement. She had my shirt laundered, pressed, and returned to me before the end of the day. Rose is great, but I'm not sure that would have happened in Atlanta. I took Ella roses on behalf of the Atlanta team to thank her for everything she did.

I wasn't the only XO to stay. All of them did, except Hal. He's running his office while Manny and Ram participate. Sticking around also gave me a chance to spend some time with Hal. The guy is legendary for his naïveté, but I quickly realized that was an outdated assumption. He's quiet and reddens easily, but he's no one's fool. The Trenton office is more military than most, probably an effect of having the Leadership Core in house for so long. The men are closed mouth and tight knit.

It's clear that they neither trust nor respect Mark. Mark was frustrated all week because his attempts to find a spy in the Trenton ranks were futile. He even approached the guy Hal took to the mats two weeks ago, with no luck. It was also clear that the Trenton men were withholding judgment on the rest of us. Every XO walked around the Trenton office with the feeling that if he stepped wrong, especially in regards to Mrs. Guzman or Ms. Plum, his body could end up in the Delaware.

Thursday night, I invited Hal, Manny, and Ram out to dinner. We hit Ruth's Chris and settled in for steak when I opened the discussion.

"I wanted to bring you guys out for a night to congratulate you on your new positions. I know that you're just settling in, but may I offer you the benefit of my experience?"

I'm immediately faced with three hard looks. I raise my hands and smile. "No, I'm not here to pry into the running of your office, nor am I here to tell you what to do. I wouldn't appreciate you doing that shit in Atlanta to me unless I asked you for your help. This is general advice."

Finally, Ram nods. "Tread carefully."

I nod back. "You've been promoted up into new positions. The hardest thing to do is let go of the duties of your old position, but you have to. You'll burn out trying to do your old position. Manny, this advice is most important to you." I'm surprised to see I get a small nod from him. "It's also applies to you, Hal. Additionally, one of the biggest issues you three will face is defining your roles for yourselves. After all, what does the XO do? The Strategist? The Liaison? What should each man be responsible for? Have you had those discussions yet? If yes, do the men know how you intend to function in your new roles? If not, tell them soon. Don't do what I did, which was keep the structure that was in place when I took over as XO, if it doesn't work for you. I quickly drowned under the work, but since it appeared that I was fine, if treading water occasionally, for six months my command didn't realize. I had a retreat with them where we pulled every single duty and function and finally got them into a working order, but it took time to get the men used to it."

I sit back and take a sip of my beer. I'm actually pretty jealous of the Trenton Core Team. These guys act as a unit. Even now, they're looking at each other, clearly determining how much they want to trust me. I hope I pass. I want them to trust me. Atlanta is an island on its own, and I need another Core Team I can call on. NYC and Miami are close because both XOs are Hispanic and their cities and pipelines are so similar. Boston and Miami are close because Mark is from the Miami office and he has spies all over that place that feed him information. I don't trust Mark, Javier talks too damn much, and Armando can't control his office like he really needs to in order to hold Miami. I need an XO I can count on, and I'm hoping Hal will be it.

I must have passed because Hal asks, "You've seen my office for a week. Give me your impression."

"Easy. I'm really fucking jealous of you." The guys smile. "No, seriously. Your office is tight knit, closed mouth, and loyal to each other. They're efficient and every man is serious about his duties. I'm not sure if that's an effect of having Leadership Core in house for so long, but if it is, it shows. I'd steal Ella if I weren't sure I'd be shot before I got out the door with her." Three identical grins. "The only areas of concern I have are with your Apprehensions group," Manny tenses "and client relations." Ram tenses. I take a sip of my beer and turn to Manny.

"You gotta let go. You can't be the strategist and the head of Apprehensions and Bonds Enforcement at the same time. If it were possible, Lester would've done it. Keep the title, oversee it from a high-level, but get out of the day to day."

I can see Manny give that some thought before nodding.

"Besides, you're now in a position to really grow RMTrenton beyond anyone's wildest dreams. Take a week, interview some people for your old position, and really sit down with Ram and Hal to determine what they need from you. You are the driver of RMTrenton. Your ideas will carry it forward."

I take a sip of my beer and watch another silent discussion between the guys. Yeah, I'm making headway here with them.

"Plus, I hate to say this but you are the strategist closest to and most trusted by the new CO. You have the ability to present her with ideas before anyone else, so this really is an opportunity for you to help her drive the company. It may never happen again, so take advantage of it. From what I hear, you're already going gangbusters with this SharePoint idea. I'm sure she has ideas of her own, and I'm sure Lester left her some, so help her where she needs it."

Manny sits back and looks at Ram and Hal. I can see he'll think about what I've said, but it will be hard for him to let go of Apprehensions, so I decide to make it easy for him.

"Look, as the head of Apprehensions you were the one directing the Leadership Core. You set up the best takedowns using the research you received. They participated in what **you** had going on, right?" Manny nods. "You'll fulfill the same role for whoever takes over. You can still participate, but you have to let someone else drive."

Our appetizers arrive and we chow down for a few minutes before Ram asks, "So what's the issue with client relations?"

"You're new to the job. You participated in client calls with Manny, but have you ever had to put together a bid proposal? Ever had to find and answer a bid proposal? Had to walk it through? Beat the bushes for new business? Maintain contact with existing clients and ensure that they're happy?"

I can see Ram now understands my point.

"It's an entirely new world for you. The people who were doing it are out in Texas, and you'll need help. I called Chase, my strategist, and he's willing to come up for a week or two to walk you through it if you want. No pressure and we won't be insulted if you decline. Or you can take some time, fly out to Texas, and shadow Tank and Bobby while they do it. Both are valid ways of learning how it's done."

I watch as Ram considers the options I've presented him. I hope he chooses Chase. I want Chase to get a look at that office because I want Atlanta to function more like that.

"I'm not crazy," Ram says. "I see your point. I'll take you up on your offer and I'll let you both know when it's a good time."

I nod. Great. I'm setting the ground work for a partnership between our offices. This is turning out to be a stellar week in more ways than one.

Our steaks arrive and all conversation turns to mundane shit until we hit on baseball. I'm diehard Atlanta Braves and I have a Mets fan and two Yankees fans at the table. The conversation is great, and I haven't had this much fun in years. Finally, we order dessert and I decide to tackle the hard subject.

"One last item to discuss." The guys smile and nod. "Have you discussed how the CO fits into your structure?"

At this, each man immediately stiffens, and I know I need to explain quickly.

"Don't. I like Stephanie and I respect her. It's clear to me why Leadership Core elevated her, but you guys are going to have a difficult situation. You have the CO in-house, but she's supposed to be neutral and in charge of the entire company. I watched both her and you this week and it's clear that all of you think of her as a little sister. You're going to have to walk a fine line because you treat her like a little sister but she's also your boss for the next year. Just be careful."

The guys relax again and lean forward to listen. "Look, I'm warning you now, she's not going to get that same reaction at the other offices. Based on this past week, my men are already priming our staff to love her, but Mark and Armando and their staffs aren't going to take the change easily. Miami has gender issues and Mark's a jealous asshole. And I do mean foaming at the mouth jealous. He thinks I'm unaware that my strategist is feeding him information, but Chase and I are in on it to keep him out our office. Keep an eye on your men, especially the disaffected. Hal, I'm not sure you're aware but he approached King, is it King?"

Hal nods, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, Roger King."

"Yeah, Mark approached him, hoping he would be his Trenton spy, but King told him, and I quote, 'Fuck off. Hal's not taking me to the mats ever again. You want information, you ask him.'"

Ram and Manny immediately laugh while Hal sits back and smiles a very satisfied smile. I smile too; that Linden-King 'discipline session' was legendary. My office commented on it all day.

"Javier might be OK, but it will take some time. He hasn't grown his office in three quarters and Lester was keeping a closer eye on him and his Core Team, so he'll be nervous when she visits. Anyway, your office will have the best relationship with the CO, and that's going to lead to tension when she goes elsewhere."

"What do you suggest?" Ram asks.

"One of you needs to go with her when she visits the other offices. She'll need a buffer, someone she knows is on her side when she visits. Who's her partner?" I fully expect to hear Hal say he is. I was sooooo wrong.

"Hector."

I know my eyes are bugging. "Hector? Seriously?" Hal nods and I sit back and exhale. "Lord have mercy. The CO has Al Neri, no, she has Luca Brasi at her back," I mutter.

At that Ram chokes on his beer and Hal and Manny shake with silent laughter. I join in, and we're all wiping tears from our eyes moments later.

"Shit, well, that just took care of all issues with the Miami and NYC offices. Those fuckers would never oppose Hector. I just worry about the Boston branch. The men there are as loyal to their XO as Trenton is to you, Hal. Mark's cold reception will lead to a cold reception from the men. Hector really needs to be at her back there, and one of you might want to go with her still."

I can see Hal considering what I've said, and I get the feeling he will be at the CO's back in Boston.

"That's all I have. You guys have a great setup, great office, and this is your chance to shine. As the newest office, everyone will be watching you, especially since the CO is in-house there. Just expect more calls, Ram, about what's goin' on in Trenton."

Ram grimaces. "More calls? Shit, I had enough two weeks ago." Hal and Manny smirk and I chuckle.

"Just the beginning, my man. Just the beginning. Expect a call from Mark soon attempting to turn you. He's not going to stop until he has a mole somewhere in your office, Hal. Just expect it."

Hal nods. The look on his face clearly says that moles will not be tolerated.

Friday morning I ask for a few minutes before the last workshop for a quick meeting with Ms. Plum. She hasn't changed a thing in Ranger's office except for the gorgeous spray of flowers. I make a mental note that flowers seem to be her thing.

"Ms. Plum?"

Her nose wrinkles then she smiles. God, if she really is Ranger's woman I have a new reason to hate the man. Thank God for Cindy.

"Steph, please. Need something, Danny?"

"Not quite," I smile. "Wanted to know if you plan on making a circuit of the offices anytime soon? I would like to invite you to come to Atlanta first if you haven't made a schedule yet."

"I planned on it, hopefully when I get this cast off. Is there something you want me to see in Atlanta?"

"Nah. Just wanted to try to impress you with some down-home Southern hospitality and friendliness."

This makes her laugh. Oh Jesus, I miss Cindy. "My men really want you to conduct another one of these workshops for the other half of our research team, although I told them they might want to hold mini-workshops to pass on what they learned if you don't get a chance to come down anytime soon. And I'd like an independent review of my office."

She looks confused by this statement, so I explain. "The only men on my staff who know you are the ones here. Most have never met you and you don't know them, so having you come in and look at my office with fresh eyes might lead to finding things that we've overlooked or find new ways of doing things. I'd really like you to look through my operation and tell me where I could improve."

Steph frowns then smiles. "It sounds like I'm some sort of corporate spy." She seems to enjoy the idea.

"True. In business, people do this all the time. They have some high-priced consultant come in and assess their office and say, here's what you do well and here's what you need to change. I'm asking the new CO, who is unbiased because she doesn't know anyone, to come do the same thing for me."

Stephanie stares at me for a long time then nods. "OK. I'll put Atlanta first on my list." I grin. Excellent! "I'll let you know when I'll arrive."

"Great. I'll have Rose prepare Bobby's apartment on 10 for you."

She frowns at that. "Bobby's apartment? Ranger doesn't have an apartment there?"

Oh shit. Have I stepped in something? "No ma'am . . ." Shit, if she doesn't know I don't want to be the one to tell her.

"First, don't call me ma'am. I'm not that old."

I grin. Southern. Sorry.

"Second, I do know that it was expected that Bobby would take over oversight from Atlanta. I just didn't realize that I would be staying in his apartment."

Whew! Saved again.

"Yes, it's his apartment on 10. The XOs were told that when you travel to any office, you are to stay in the top apartment, which is decorated for the person who will eventually take oversight of that office. I don't think they ever really think about it; it's more of a flophouse for them." She nods. "Well, it's time to start. I'll wheel you there, if you don't mind." She smiles and I dismiss the Trenton guy who showed up.

My week has been great. I might finally have a partner office, the CO will visit my office first and I've halved my backlog. Shit, forget great. This week has been spectacular!

Leadership Core has never done anything that could be remotely classified as 'stupid', although 'inscrutable' is not a bad adjective. After a week with Ms. Plum, I'm sure I don't know all the reasons for her elevation but the ones I've sussed out make sense. I've gotten more out of this trip than I ever expected.

My loyalty is to RangeMan. My loyalty is to the Leadership Core. I don't question their decisions; therefore, my loyalty is to the new CO.


	21. My Partner

**Chapter 21: My Partner**

**Steph's POV**

You should never assume you know anything about anyone because Hector was a complete surprise. After the guys left Saturday morning for Texas, Hector joined me in my office and closed the door.

"Hola."

"Hola." Well, with the exception of gracias, taco, burrito, and enchilada, we've just exhausted the extent of my Spanish.

"Yes, I know and that's a damn shame, _chica_. We gotta work on that."

I'm sure I have a bruise on my chin from the way it just slammed into the desk. Hector speaks English? Perfect English? Jersey-accented English?

"Of course I speak English. I was born and raised in this country, in South Orange, as a matter of fact. I'm just more comfortable in Spanish."

"Why don't you ever speak English around anyone?"

Hector raises an eyebrow. Can everyone except me do that? "Mystique, _Angelita_. No one believes I can speak English and no one expects me to speak English so they assume I must not understand it either." Hector smiles. "My advantage over everyone. You wouldn't believe the shit people say around me simply because they don't think I understand them."

"How long have you been getting away with this?" I still can't believe I'm sitting here having a conversation with Hector. He's right; I never thought he spoke or understood English.

"At least twenty years. Not even my college professors thought I spoke English but since I could program it really didn't matter."

"You went to college? Where?"

"Started at Essex, finished at NJ Tech."

Holy shit. There's so much more to Hector than I ever realized. "So why tell me your big secret?"

"Because you are now my partner and this is something you should know. If we are ever in a clutch situation you shouldn't hesitate to say things to me just because you think I won't understand."

That's great. I am glad he told me because that was my biggest worry. I didn't want a partner that I didn't understand and who couldn't understand me.

"And for the next year, you are the CO," Hector adds. "You should be aware of everyone's little quirks, their strengths and weaknesses. Ranger certainly was and it helped him to know who to send where in certain situations."

I nod. Ranger does seem to know everything about everyone.

"So, I will watch your back for the next year but I want to teach you Spanish, in secret. You need to be able to understand what's being said around you without having to rely on someone else's interpretation. Plus, about 95% of the men in this company speak Spanish. It's damn near a requirement."

I think about what Hector said and nod. He's right but that's not why I want to know Spanish. I want to know what Ranger is moaning when he's inside me because I have a feeling he's expressing deeper emotions than he's willing to say to me. The last words he spoke before he left were in Spanish and I've always wished I knew what he was saying.

"Can you help me with sentence?" Hector nods. "I'm going to mangle it but I remember te amo, my name, siempre, corazón, mí hasta and yo vuelva." My pronunciation is all off but I'm trying to get as close as I can.

Hector cringes and shakes his head. "Lessons start tomorrow. You mangled a beautiful sentence. If I'm guessing right, that was _Te amo, Stephanie, por siempre. Toma mi corazón para mí hasta que yo vuelva," _Hector waits andI nod, that sounds about right,_ "_which means 'I love you, Stephanie, forever. Take, or hold, my heart for me until I return'."

I think my brain just froze. If Hector's right (of course he's right. He speaks the language!), I need to learn Spanish now. Right now. This very minute. I blink and try to put my emotions back in order. I need another question to distract me from Ranger's declaration. His sneaky declaration. In another language. How long has he been saying stuff like that to me, knowing I didn't understand, that I don't speak Spanish? How long has he been telling me he loves me?

I've heard him whisper _te amo_ under his breath before but I had no idea what it meant. I thought it was a curse. You know, like 'oh God'.

"What's God is Spanish?"

Hector raises an eyebrow. "_Dios_."

Yeah, I've heard that word before too. In bed and out.

"Do the guys speak any other languages?" Took me long enough to come up with that question.

"Here it's mostly Spanish. Zero and Vince speak Italian."

I nod, remembering dinner with my parents and Zero's conversations with Dad.

_Te amo_ means 'I love you'. I'm still stuck on this.

Hector continues. "I think Woody and Junior speak enough French to get by. Hal speaks French and a little German, I think. The office with the most language skills is Miami. Everyone there speaks Spanish, a requirement to work there since the town is bilingual, but an extra language looks good there. You'll get everything from Haitian Creole to Brazilian Portuguese down there." Yikes!

_Corazón _means heart. Well, I've learned one phrase and two new words today. I'll never forget them either.

"Anyway, since we will be partners and you can't get out in the field yet, I say we spend some time together each day and I'll teach you Spanish so you can understand what's being said around you. I definitely want you to know some Spanish before you travel to Miami."

I agree; the office of Neanderthals doesn't need to know that their CO understands them. And the next time Ranger and I are together, I want to know what he's whispering to me. I know what _Dios, corazón_ and _te amo_ mean now. What else has he been saying?

Hector and I review my calendar and carve out some time in my busy schedule every day to meet. It's on my calendar as "Training time with partner," true even if it is a bit misleading. The guys look concerned but since it's Hector no one is going to stop us.

I'm going to Barnes and Nobles for a Spanish/English dictionary. Time to start learning some new words.

* * *

**Next Tuesday**

The phone rings.

"Hello?" For god's sake, it's 8:20. My workshop starts in 40 minutes and I need to get a handle on my notes. Yesterday didn't start so great, so today has to go perfectly. It's Miami's turn to work their bond files.

"Hey Steph, it's Eddie. You, um. . . you have a package on the first floor. Were you expecting anything?"

"No," I reply. I wonder what this could be.

"OK. Well, umm. . . we're going to check it according to SOPs before we deliver it up."

There are SOPs for my packages?

"Yes, Bombshell. Tank and Lester updated the SOPs before they left. You need a new copy?"

I'm really irritated. More change in my life that concerns me that **no one** made **me** aware of. "Yes, I need them in my office ASAP." The irritation in my tone must have given Eddie a warning because he promises to have them in my office before my workshop begins.

I head down to the 5th floor to find every man in the building watching the Trenton guys. The Trenton men are staring at a long flat box and they are clearly jumpy. Hal has taken point in examining the box, staring at what appears to be the inside of the lid, so I'm wondering if the resident explosives expert has found something.

"Uh. . . Ram?" Javier asks. Ram looks over at him. "What's going on?"

"UO for CO. Following SOPs before delivery." Now every man from the other offices looks completely confused and so am I. Ram notices me. I raise an eyebrow and he hides a smile.

"Not quite, but almost." He smiles. "Since you weren't expecting a delivery, we've termed this an Unidentified Object. SOPs are to strip it for any possible explosives, contaminants, incendiaries, etc. We don't want a road-kill incident."

Ah. OK. I get it. I don't bother to remind anyone that the roadkill was not my fault.

Ram looks over at the other XOs. "Because the CO is a magnet for crazies, stalkers, kidnappers, and other assorted 'unfriendlies', there's a set of SOPs at this branch in regards to her. Not her fault. They just seem to love her." The Trenton men all look in my direction and smile. I attempt an angry face, but I can't hold it and that just makes them laugh.

"Can we get a copy of those SOPs?" Armando asks. Gene walks forward with five copies, one for each XO and one for me.

Finally, Hal looks over at me. "I've cleared it, Steph. All yours."

I roll forward and take the box. I can see the contents through the Lucite window and I gasp.

The roses and pink tiger lilies are beautiful. There is a small spray of baby's breath in the included vase, a beautiful pink and white vase. It brings tears to my eyes. I can't remember the last time I received flowers out the blue that weren't related to a stalker. My wedding, maybe? The card has been opened and I can see Ram looking at me oddly. I retrieve the card.

_From Hector._

That's all it says but I immediately take off for my office and, once inside, start to cry. They're beautiful and this was unexpected. After yesterday's shaky start and the morning torture session with Sarah, this is the perfect pick-me-up. Beautiful roses and lilies. I hear a knock at the door and Ella pokes her head in.

"I heard you received beautiful flowers," Ella says, smiling. She reads the card and smiles, eyebrows raised. "Need some help arranging them?"

I nod, overwhelmed.

"Oh goodie! I couldn't wait to see them. The men are all in an uproar. First they thought they were stalker related then, when they realized who they were from, they started wondering if they'd missed your birthday or some other major date. You should see them right now. They're back in the 'Bomber file' trying to determine if this is some major date for you." Ella giggles as we arrange the flowers in the vase. It looks gorgeous when complete.

"What do you know about the language of flowers, Stephanie?" Ella asks.

I shake my head. Absolutely nothing.

Ella smiles. "Well, this is very meaningful bouquet. Pink roses for joy and perfect happiness, tiger lilies for Pride, and I can't quite remember baby's breath. I think it might be purity or innocence . . . " Ella trails off, looking concerned. Finally she shrugs. "Oh well, in any case it looks like Hector is trying to say he's proud and happy to be partnered with you."

I'm admiring my beautiful bouquet. The idea of a man like Hector taking the time to try to find a meaningful floral gift doesn't exactly square with his reputation, but this is my new partner. I have to trust him with my life. I'll assume Ella is right. She usually is.

Ella disappears for a moment and reappears with a warm face towel and my mascara. "Here, dry your face. It's almost time for your workshop to begin."

I received flowers. I can't remember the last time I received flowers. I wheel myself outside and catch Hector right before he hits the stairwell. In full view of every man in the RM Trenton building, I throw myself at my partner and kiss him full on the mouth. He looks shocked then he grins big. Hector sent me flowers. He's made my day.

"_Flores_."

"Flowers?"

Hector nods. I smile and repeat the word, then cast around for one of my Spanish words. "_Gracias."_

Hector smiles big. "_De nada_." He kisses me on the top of my head and disappears down the stairs. I turn around and face the men. They're completely shocked.

"Well, what are all of you staring at? 9AM! Let's get started."

Hal and I finally resolve the office issue when I wheel into Tank's office on Wednesday, right before my workshop begins, and discover that Hal has completely moved in. He didn't say anything, just waits for me to start yelling. I think about creative payback but he's right.

I move, reluctantly, into Ranger's office, but I take Tank's chair and ask Ella to buy him another one. He steals his chair back Friday but leaves me flowers, yellow roses, next to my pink bouquet. I look it up; yellow roses mean friendship so I'll consider us even.

The Trenton men are learning that flowers forgive all sins.

* * *

My mornings with Sarah are not getting any better. It's just torture. Thankfully, there's no treadmill but there's no fun either. This is traditional boring training, exactly what I was afraid of.

Three weeks into her hell regime, I go downstairs to find three more wheelchairs sitting there and Hector smiling in a scary way at a visibly nervous Sarah. Cal looks amused.

"Good morning, Stephanie."

An actual greeting? Yup, Hector has frightened her for some reason. Already my day is looking up. I really like my partner; a beautiful bouquet of flowers every Wednesday will do that.

"I thought we would try something new for the cardio workout. You get the cast off tomorrow, right?" she asks.

I shake my head. "The surgeon did an MRI, said I needed 2 full months in this thing. We switch to a different kind of cast tomorrow, well, a walking boot really."

I have another reason to hate Thomas Mann. I'll be in the wheelchair for 6 more weeks. Zero had the brunt of my irritation for that diagnosis but when he suggested having the doctors do a bone-density test of all my limbs I got over it. I'd rather not.

I'm wondering what is going on. Her eyes keep darting at Hector and Cal has moved out of her line of sight.

"Ok, I'll keep that in mind. Now, have you ever tried wheelchair racing?" Sarah asks.

Huh? Until I broke my leg, I'd never been in a wheelchair. Well, not since I broke my arm.

She gets me buckled into my wheelchair as Hector settles into one. This isn't a normal wheelchair; it has one small wheel out front and two big wheels in back. It's like a low slung tricycle. She belts herself into the last one and we all wheel over to a line. The gym is filling up with amused RangeMen.

"So I thought perhaps we could race around the gym three times, see who is the fastest?"

"And this is going to be a cardio workout?" I'm suspicious. It sounds more like fun and disaster all together at once.

Sarah smiles. "Like you wouldn't believe. Cal is going to time us and keep track of the laps. Ready?" Hector's grin is positively evil and Sarah looks nervous again.

**"GO!" **Cal yells.

And we're off, racing around the gym like a bunch of drunken monkeys in a bad skit. Sarah obviously decided to up the difficulty factor by placing objects in the path of the track. Hector nearly loses control of his chair once and the RangeMen are having a good time laughing. Hector growled something in Spanish and they all sobered up slowly, grins still on their faces.

I'm holding my own close behind them both but I'm not tipping over which is all I'm concerned about. As we get to the straight portions, I'm able to really dig down into my seat and catch Sarah. I smile. I've been stuck in this thing for two weeks; I know how to move it.

The guys on the sidelines are taking bets and I'm hurt; clearly I'm not going to win, so why bet on it?

The three laps are over quickly and I'm surprised by how much fun it was. Until it stops. Now I see what she means. I feel the burn in my arms, in my middle and my heart is still pumping. I can't believe it. I sat on my ass the entire time and got a complete cardio workout!

"I won!" Caesar crows. Hector looks visibly angry and Caesar doesn't look so happy anymore. "_No hombre, no estábamos apostando en contra de ella. Nos apuestas para ver quién se acercan más a su tiempo. ¿Ven? Mire Héctor, fue muerto. 20 minutos, 25 segundos. Hombre, sabes que no apuesta contra ella_."(No man, we weren't betting against her. We were betting to see who would come closest to her time. See? Look Hector, I was dead on. 20 minutes, 25 seconds. Man, you know we don't bet against her.)

Hector calms and smiles at me slightly. Caesar still looks nervous and turns to me. "Steph, we weren't betting on who would win the race. We were betting on your time, that's all. Nothing against you."

I look at the sheet they had going and am surprised to see that most of the times are within 4-5 minutes of my actual time. OK, they weren't betting against me. I smile and Caesar looks relieved. The guys crowd around me to tease me on my time and technique.

The next round is me, Hal, and Ram. The guys think it's hilarious that the Trenton leadership is racing around in wheelchairs. Again, I come in last but I was close behind Ram. My stomach and arms are on fire now but that was just too much fun not to do twice. I smile and turn to Sarah.

"Can we do that more often? It was fun. How was that exercise?"

"Well, it worked your biceps, triceps, shoulders and abs. Feel the pressure in your abdomen?" I nod. "Well, you basically did 40 straight minutes worth of crunches and push-ups."

I'm stunned. But . . . but it was FUN! "What's a good time for that exercise?"

She looks relieved that I liked it. A few of the RangeMen have commandeered the wheelchairs and are zooming around the tracks themselves while the others heckle them.

"Well, I'm not going to concern myself with timing you on this exercise. It's just a fun way for us to get the hated cardio workout out of the way."

I nod happily and submit to the rest of the torture regime. Knowing that wheelchair racing will be added to the list of hated exercises makes the morning run much more smoothly.

Later I ask Cal, "What was Sarah so nervous about?"

"Your partner is frightening." He smiles at me. "He 'suggested' to Sarah that it would be in her best interest to try making it fun sooner rather than later. And that common courtesy wouldn't go amiss, especially since he intended to oversee your training from time to time."

I raise an eyebrow. Well, not quite and Cal smirks. "And that scared her?"

"Well, since he was saying it while flipping his switchblades, it had a scary vibe. I warned her later to take all of Hector's 'suggestions' very seriously." Cal said.

I'm trying not to cry. Hector intervened? I had a fun morning because of him?

I love my partner.


	22. Partner Clash

**Chapter 22: Partner Clash**

**Steph's POV**

A week later, Lester and Tank take special joy in letting me know that they've seen the wheelchair racing tapes and are teasing me about finding a workout that I can do sitting on my ass. Bobby is thrilled that Sarah has finally found something to do with me that I like; I was vocal with him about the fact that I still didn't like her.

They've settled into San Antonio and have found apartments, but they still haven't found office space that they like. Everything they saw online failed to meet requirements in person, so they're contemplating constructing a building but that means remaining in Texas even longer.

The SA RangeMen are making a big splash on the streets, hauling in fugitives left, right, and center. The guys already have all the contracts they can handle and are contemplating requesting more men from each office. Lester's having a field day hiring, but the training hasn't gone like he hoped. The military men are definitely having problems with the ex-cons and ex-gang bangers. Creating unity in that office has not gone as smoothly as it has in the past.

In any case, they've barely been there a month and they're being flooded with requests from bond agencies to take on their skips. I hear from Connie that word is out through the PBUS about RangeMan's reputation and every bond agent with outstanding skips in the state of Texas is considering RangeMan. Vinnie is in tears at the thought of losing Ranger and his men from Trenton.

"Tell the weasel that RangeMan Trenton isn't going anywhere. Hell, we have a 100% capture rate on his skips this month, so what's he crying about?"

"It's the thought of losing Ranger, honey," Connie says. "He's had Ranger here for four years, and he's gotten used to knowing that the top man in charge was here in Trenton. You know the weasel doesn't like change. Hell, he still hasn't gotten over the fact that you're gone."

Vinnie has replaced me with a rat of a guy named David Pickens. Lula and Connie hate him, but acknowledge that he's good at the job.

"He's not you, Steph. It's like working with Morty all over again," Connie says.

Connie can't stand him. Apparently, he asked her out, then stood her up saying he had to babysit. She saw him later that night with Joyce Barnhardt. That was unforgivable. She poured five gallons of tomato water in his gas tank and has barely spoken to him since.

I ask the RangeMen to run a background on David. Hal smiles and hands me the file. They'd already done it twice, and he's clean. Former cop, retired. Divorced, three kids, lives in an apartment. Currently having some expensive car trouble and can barely make his rent. Ahh . . . he got cleaned out in the divorce. Couldn't keep it in his pants.

Well it's official. I'm a RangeMan . . . er, RangeWoman. I no longer have a job with Vinnie.

"White Girl, when's the next time you gon' get sprung from that building? Shit we ain't seen a doughnut down here in weeks."

I decide not to mention I haven't seen a doughnut in nearly six weeks. Well, not a fried one.

"How about we go shopping on Saturday? I need a day out of here."

"Hell yeah! I'll have the Firebird ready and waiting to roll. I need me some new Via Spigas. What time?"

"How about 11? I should be free then."

I add the shopping trip with Lula to my calendar. I've learned that if it's not on the calendar it doesn't exist. My life revolves around my calendar, and Hector makes sure that my phone, a new iPhone, stays synced with it.

11AM Saturday rolls around and I'm ready to go. I'm headed down to the first floor when I run into Hector coming in. He's helping Ella with the weekly grocery run but stops in front of me and lifts an eyebrow.

"I'm headed out to go shopping with Lula." This gets a frown and a shake. No.

"Yes."

He shakes his head again and motions for me to follow him. I ignore the order and roll out the door to Lula's car. We're at the QuakerBridge Mall and I'm enjoying the freedom of finally being out on my own when Hector pops up and catches me off guard. Thankfully Lula is distracted by a pair of clear pumps and misses Hector's arrival. If not for Hector's hand on my arm, I might have jumped four feet into the air.

"The 'no', _Angelita_, was not a 'no' to say that you couldn't go," Hector whispers. "It was a 'no' to say 'wait for me'. Remember? No one knows I speak English, but I hoped you understood that as your partner, you couldn't just go off alone and not say shit to me. You're not offline. Plus, you have no security with you and no one knew where you were going in advance. You want to piss me off? Do that again."

The ease with which Hector snuck up on me and the fury on his face remind me of Bobby's words. '_Hector is his own Luca Brasi_.' I nod. His explanation makes sense and I was inconsiderate. I should have told him in advance.

Clearly, Hector watches my trackers very closely. I haven't been here 15 minutes.

"Sorry."

"Español."

"_Lo siento_."

"_Muy bien._"

The Spanish finally catches Lula's attention and she looks over at us. The sight of Hector makes her pause for a moment before looking at me.

"Hector is my partner. He'll be joining us for the rest of the day."

Lula is not happy about this at all. "How in the hell are we supposed to shop with him along? And whatchu mean, he's your partner? What am I? And what we gon' do with some skinny Hispanic dude tagging along anyway? Ain't that the one that don't speak any English?"

I'm not sure what to say to Lula. The last few weeks have been hard on her. Tank's gone and apparently their talk at her apartment didn't go well. I'm working at RangeMan full-time now so we don't see each other all the time. Knowing that she's been replaced by Hector is, I think, the last straw for her. She sets the pumps down and barrels out, knocking people out of her way, headed to the food court. I motion to Hector.

"Give me some privacy with her." He lifts an eyebrow and shakes his head. No. Well, I deserve that; Hector is not allowing me to go anywhere alone since I've acted like an ass. We hurry after Lula and I finally find her in the food court with a single burger. Even her appetite is gone. I sit across from her and Hector sits next to her.

"Lula, you will always be my partner. Hector is my RangeMan partner, but he's also the head of my security."

That makes Lula look up at me and over at Hector. She's still angry, and I don't know how to make her feel any better.

"With Ranger in the wind and the guys out of town, they were worried about me having someone watching my back. Hector has never had a RangeMan partner, so they partnered us up. That doesn't mean that you aren't my partner also. We're friends."

"Don't lie to me, Stephanie. You work at RangeMan all the time. You gotta put in a damn request to get you out that building to do anything. You don't come and hang out at the Bonds Office no more, so we never see you."

I nod. "You're right. I do work at RangeMan and my schedule is packed, partly because I'm in training. I'll never be able to go after any skips if I don't meet the RangeMan standards, so the guys are working with me to meet standards as fast as I can."

"You've been a bounty hunter for four years. Seems to me you did alright. We always got our skip and we had a good time doing it too. Why not just quit and get your job back?" Lula asks. She's finally eating her burger.

I can't say I haven't thought about doing just that. Normally I have that thought every morning at 6:10 AM. "Because Ranger and the guys have also asked me to run things while they're in Texas. So I can't just leave because I promised I wouldn't. I promised the guys I'd hold the fort for them."

I grin at Lula and get a small smile back. "So even though I'm not at the Bonds Office, it's not like we can't see each other. It's just that when we hang out it can just be about having fun, not trying to wrestle some naked greasy skip into the car or you leaving me at the station," at this Lula grins big, "or getting shot at or trying to do surveillance. We can shop and go clubbing or eat out. I can't do that with Hector without it looking kinda weird."

Hector raises an eyebrow at me quietly. I smile.

Finally Lula laughs. "Yeah, you got that right. You and some skinny Hispanic dude with two teardrops on his face does look funny, but shit, some of that crazy shit we used to get into was fun. Exciting stuff always happened when we got together."

"What makes you think that's going to change?"

We both look at each other and laugh.

* * *

The afternoon is much calmer. Hector takes on the traditional role as bag mule while we shop till we drop. Working at RangeMan has definitely been a good financial move. When I checked my bank account after the first payroll at the helm, I nearly had a heart attack at the balance. I called Tank immediately.

_(Flashback in italics)_

_"TANK!" I can hear Tank excuse himself from the room._

_"Little Girl,__ what's wrong? Are you in danger? Do you need help?" _

_"Oh God, Tank, I screwed up payroll! I'm so sorry! I don't know what to do." _

_I hear Tank exhale. "Shit, I thought you were in danger. Look, if you screwed up payroll, call the accountants. They can help you get it squared away."_

_I call the company accountants who, after reviewing the balance sheets and statements, tell me that payroll went just fine, no problems. My bank balance is another story._

_"Ma'am, I don't see any problems. Your annual compensation is $250,000. Your direct deposit was executed just fine. What is the issue?"_

_The issue is my annual compensation, as you termed it. I text Tank to call me when he has a moment. 30 minutes later he calls._

_"Tank, I'm sorry about earlier."_

_"It's fine Little Girl. The accountants said there was no problem so what spooked you?"_

_"Who decided my salary?" It's quiet on the other end of the phone._

_"Bobby, Lester, and I."_

_"Tank!"_

_"What?"_

_"It's obscene."_

_"It's standard."_

_"I have no training or qualifications for this job and you're over-paying me."_

_"Steph, I'm not going to get into your training and experience. We decided you were appropriate for the job. Now, how much do the XOs make?"_

_"$125K."_

_"Strategists?"_

_"$100K."_

_"Liaisons?"_

_"$100K."_

_"So, knowing the salary levels, what did you expect us to pay you?"_

_I have no answer for that. I've spent so many years one skip away from poverty that I don't know what an appropriate salary is for anything anymore._

_"Steph, that salary is what we paid Mark every time he took over. There's no levels between the XOs and the partners, so when we appoint someone up, the salary is adjusted to handle the duties. You're the CO. That's the salary. Any questions?"_

_Nope. I'm buying Rex the extra good hamster pellets from now on and a new habitat._

_I decide to be responsible with my money. I place half into a savings account. It's the first time I've had one since I left Dickie. Another 25% goes into the company 401(k) and an IRA. I live off the rest. It's still far more than I'm used to, but it's nice. I thought about buying a car, but since I go everywhere in RangeMan vehicles these days, I'm holding off. Ranger left me three of his cars but I refuse to touch them. I don't want to test my car karma on his cars._

_Plus, Lester left a car. I'll test my car karma on his BMW first. He asked for it._

When we hit the final store my phone rings.

Mom. "Stephanie, are you coming to dinner tonight? We're having meatloaf and your grandmother has a viewing she wants to go to."

I hear my grandmother wrestle the phone away. Oh god. Who died this time? One good thing to come out of being marooned at RangeMan was that Mom had to escort Grandma to her viewings. Two viewings and she suddenly understood that all the times I'd had problems with Grandma at Stiva's were not my fault.

"Stephanie, Irma Lemonski died two days ago and they're having her funeral tomorrow. Jewish, so you know they gotta get them in the ground quick. It's open casket and I want to see if they glued her hairpiece onto her head like her hair dresser used to or if they went for a full wig."

Not another one. Lula and Hector are both grinning.

"No temple?"

"She didn't like the new rabbi." I look at my partners.

"Your granny is fun, White Girl. Come on, let's take her to her viewing." I tell Mom to expect one more for dinner, as Lula decides not to stay, and that we'll take Grandma to her viewing. We swing by the house and grab Grandma. Everyone piles into the RangeMan SUV and we head off to Stiva's.

"Well, who's this cutie, Stephanie?" I love my Grandma. She does exactly what **she **wants to in life. I just wish she didn't have to wait all these years to do it.

"Grandma, this is Hector. Hector, this is my Grandma."

Hector looks at Grandma through the rearview and smiles. "Hola."

Granny grins back big. "Hola. Ohh. . . he speaks the espanol huh?" The way she pronounces español causes Lula and Hector to grin. I sense trouble.

For the rest of the ride, Grandma bombards Hector with questions while Hector maintains a perfectly polite smile. At no point does he let on that he understands her. When we reach Stiva's, the new owner comes out, probably to say something to Grandma, but the sight of Hector causes him to stop, reconsider, and walk back in.

Grandma turns to me. "Can I keep him? I've never seen Peter Clifford run back inside Stiva's that fast. Usually he can't wait to tell me what to do and put a guard on me."

I'm thinking Peter thinks we brought a guard for her. Poor man. He has no clue.

Stiva's is packed with mourners, but my Grandma is not a mourner, she's a spectator. After munching on a cookie ("Dry. Slightly stale.") and greeting the widower ("Irma always bragged her husband was a stallion. Looks like it might be true. He's neck deep in women. I might give him a go." Eww Grandma.), Grandma moves toward the casket. Peter is watching us, worry on his face.

The next few moments are right out a bad movie. Grandma raises her arms to reach into the casket to tug on the deceased's headpiece when Hector appears right behind her. He grasps Grandma's arms to keep her hands down, but the halt of her upward trajectory jostles the trestle the casket is on. Hector is rapidly moving Grandma back away from the casket but the damage is done.

The jostling knocks the flower spray off the casket. The body shifts slightly, and all of a sudden we hear the world's loudest fart and a horrible odor spreads through the funeral home. Jewish funeral. No embalming. We can't move Grandma fast enough, and I've lost sight of Lula. Turns out, she's already at the SUV.

There are no words.

I catch Hector's eye and bite my lip.

"Well, they used a full wig. Shame. She looked better with her hairpiece."

* * *

**Hector's POV**

I've heard all the stories about _Angelita's_ Abuela and I wasn't sure how true they were. I was inclined to believe them; after all, this woman is related to the one who shot up my security remote because she didn't understand it. I didn't think it too unbelievable that the Grandma might be certifiable.

I was wrong. Her _Abuela_ (grandmother) is completely insane. Might did not even apply.

The funeral home viewing was my first clue. My second clue was during dinner. When we returned to _Angelita's_ mother's house, I was a gentleman, opening the _abuela's_ car door and helping her down. For my actions, I was fondled openly, but since _Angelita_ was distracted saying goodbye to Lula she missed it. Her mother saw it though.

"Hello, I'm Helen Plum. I'm sorry about that. It's nice to meet you ..." She trails off and waits expectantly. _Angelita_ appears by my side.

"Mom, this is Hector. He doesn't speak English." Her mother looks at me and nods, still smiling somewhat. The teardrops concern her. "He's also my new partner."

I can see her mother puff up, ready to begin firing questions, when it happens. She looks at me, looks at _Angelita,_ and lets out a deep breath. "Well, unless he speaks Italian your father won't care. I've already heard what happened at Stiva's." Mrs. Plum turns to her mother. "Why?"

Maybe the personality transplant the guys were talking about was true. I'll watch this Pod Mom very carefully. She might still be a threat to _Angelita_.

"I told you, I wanted to see if they went for a full wig or left her hairpiece."

"And?"

"Full wig."

"Don't you ever wonder what people will do at your funeral? Considering how many funerals you've disrupted?"

"Nope. I'll be dead so I won't care. All the funerals I've disrupted were for people who are now in the ground so they aren't coming back after me. Unless that zombie thing turns out to be true."

Certifiably insane but cool clear logic. If not for her bony fingers and lack of self control, I might like Granny.

We're ushered inside and I nod to Mr. Plum. _Angelita_ does the introductions and I get a nod back. I'm placed across from _Angelita_, right next to the _abuela._

I spend my meal being fondled and harassed under the table. I'll give Granny Mazur props, she's sly. My hips, ass, and dick are all pinched and she takes joy in continuing to try to feel me up. I'm just waiting. I'll get her before I leave. I'm determined. I've got to find a way to break her. I won't live in fear of coming over here just because of Granny Mazur, and time spent with her granddaughter has given me an idea.

The meal finally ends and we take Granny Mazur back to _Angelita's_ old apartment with us. I'm fond of this place. It was the first time I met my brother's _mujer_ (woman), the one he was serious about, and she seemed determined to make it on her own. I'm not throwing my cap in the air, but every time I come near this door, that theme song starts in my head. Weird.

I unlock the door and perform the intruder check, which _Angelita_ thinks is unnecessary, but I raise an eyebrow. Her Granny lives here now; best make sure it's safe because all the weirdos she draws may not have heard the news. I wait 'til she's in the bathroom before I make my move.

I have Granny Mazur pinned in the kitchen, my front to her back. I'm going to hell for this. I slip two condoms into her hand and watch her get excited.

"If you can last two rounds with me without having a heart attack, swallowing your dentures or breaking a hip, I'll finish the rest of a box with you in 24 hours. And I don't respond to 'please', 'slow down', or 'you're hurting me'. You ride the ride as it's presented." It's the nastiest thing I've ever threatened, but I'm known for being creative. Granny Mazur looks at me with big eyes. "Otherwise, don't feel me up again. I don't swing your way."

She looks at me, looks at the condoms, and hands them back. Thought so. Like _Angelita,_ she delights in causing mayhem but she has problems backing up her words. The fact that I've taken the initiative and brought the battle to her has thrown her off. I slip the condoms back into my pocket and slip back into my 'polite smile' face as _Angelita_ comes back.

Granny Mazur still hasn't said anything, but she's assessing me. I'm not running from her like the rest of my RangeMan brothers, so I'm an unknown quantity. I see her planning her method of attack and I hide a smile. I've won this battle, but the war has commenced.

I'm determined to be victorious.


	23. Temper Tantrums

**Chapter 23****: Temper Tantrums**

**Steph's POV**

My first month as CO was not as bad as I feared, but it wasn't a walk in the park. One of the best decisions I made after I took over was to offload all Trenton branch work to Hal. There was no way I would ever meet standards and stay sane if I had to run the company and a branch. Besides, I had to remain neutral and above board. Being involved in the day to day operations of a branch wouldn't help me do that. Hal grumbled about it, but he took on the extra work without too many complaints, restructuring the Trenton office and leadership to accommodate what has to be done. The guys here look a lot happier. I overheard one say that they were starting to feel like there was a possibility for promotions in the company, and I added that to my list of things to consider.

The work of the company really requires me to be creative. Danny, Hal, and I had a conference video call so that I could look at their projections for Hospitality work, and I gave them the OK to pilot it for four months in their branches. Before I offered the chance to Hal, I asked Mark if he wanted to pilot it in Boston, but he said he didn't have any projections to give. I asked him what happened to the projections he'd previously given Lester, but he claimed not to have submitted any. He said he'd only had discussions about possibilities, not numbers. So why am I getting the feeling he's going to do it anyway?

It was a great move for the Trenton office; they had about six contracts for conferences in the Philly area within two weeks, although I think Ram had some problems securing those contracts at first. Atlanta had a harder time getting the contracts they wanted, so I advised them to start with smaller conferences and to also make contact with the events coordinator at the venues they thought they could cover. After that, they started getting the contracts they needed, but it reinforced what Les said about moving into this very carefully.

The announcement of the implementation schedule for the SharePoint site went out, and the Miami office had a fit because they weren't going to be the first office that went up. Hector said that anyone who wanted to challenge his decision on the deployment schedule was more than welcome to come to Trenton to discuss it with him. I heard nothing more, so I suppose that was the end of that.

Our guys really didn't see the point of it until they got a look at Manny's temporary site. Then the ideas and suggestions started flowing. I thought about what Lester said before he left, about soliciting more ideas from the staff, and asked the XOs if they thought it would be a good idea for me to have an email address where the men could email their suggestions and concerns. This idea was met with silence.

"It's not that I don't think it's a good idea, Stephanie," said Danny. "It's just that I don't want to encourage the men to think they can bypass their XO and go directly to the CO with every little flight of fancy that enters their skulls. A suggestion box can quickly turn into a 'moan and groan' box or a 'snitch' box if the idea gets out that the CO will take ideas she gets from the men back to the XOs for implementation without discussion."

All the XOs agreed with that statement, so I put the idea back on the list as something to think about later.

Later that afternoon, Hal and Manny came to talk to me.

"I think that if you put it out that the emails were going to be shared by the Leadership, the CO and all the XOs, with an eye toward improving processes and procedures, then the men wouldn't be encouraged to send in every thought that enters their head," Hal said. "Knowing that their XO may see it too means they should stick to company matters."

Manny nodded in agreement, so I sent an email to the XOs outlining how I thought it should work. Everyone responded in favor, so I asked Hector to help me set it up. The email went out, my first official email as the CO of RangeMan, and I've gotten some surprisingly good suggestions from the box, which I've set aside to think about.

I'm using the XOs as my sounding board for major decisions I need to make, and it's an adjustment for all of us. They are not accustomed to being asked to weigh in on the direction of the company as a whole. Ranger and Lester think up the big ideas, Ranger gives the OK, Bobby looks for weaknesses and defects and Tank executes. The Leadership Core has defined roles, but for the next year that structure is not in place. I have to find my own structure, and it's a waste of the XOs not to use them.

Some of them, like Danny, Hal, and Javier, are enjoying this new freedom to weigh in on the direction of the company, and because of it I'm getting great ideas to consider. Armando participates sporadically; Mark does not participate at all. I now consider Danny and Hal my main sounding boards. I know that if I have questions on procedure or policy I can always ask Hal, and if I have questions about finances I can ask Danny or Ryan, the head of Finance. I'm careful about how I approach the other XOs because I remember what Les said about their weaknesses.

Lester's warnings about Mark were dead on. I was surprised to find Hal waiting for me in my office one morning looking angry and irritated. Hal had just been informed by the accountants that Mark is asking for monthly budgeting reports for both his branch and Trenton, and they needed Hal's permission to release the Trenton budget to him. Evidently he told them that Hal had requested his assistance with understanding the process.

"I swear, Steph, you gotta get a handle on him. I can't have him poking his nose into my branch." Hal truly feels the ownership of the Trenton branch and he's protective of it.

"How do you want to handle it?" I have an idea, but I want to see what he will think up first.

"I've already told him that if I feel I need his help I would call him. I'm tempted to turn the process around on him, but I don't have the power."

Great; exactly what I was thinking. "Then don't do anything. I've got it. And don't mention this to him. Call the accountants back, deny permission, and say nothing else."

I wait an hour then call Ryan.

"Ryan, I have a question and a request."

"Shoot, Steph."

"I already receive all Mark's financial paperwork, correct? All his monthly spending and budgeting reports, forecasts, etc, right?"

"Right . . ." I can hear Ryan getting suspicious.

"Great. Don't release any of his financial paperwork to him or anyone else until Hal and I give you further notice. Make sure your staff knows it as well. **Only **Hal **and** I will be allowed to lift the order."

"Noted. What should we tell him if he asks?"

"Call the Trenton branch."

The next week, when his financial paperwork didn't show up, Mark's first step was to call all the other XOs to find out if they had received theirs. Everyone reported that they had. Step two was to call the accountants to determine if there was a problem; he was told to call the Trenton branch. He reached Hal, who was ready for him.

"Mark, how are you? Can I help you with something?"

"Uhh . . . yeah, I called the accountants about my financial paperwork. They said to call here. Any idea why?"

"Not a clue."

"Who would know?"

"You ask Steph?"

Silence on the phone. Obviously, it had not even occurred to him that I was the only person who would have been able to give the order to prevent his paperwork.

"Did she have it held?"

"Above my pay grade."

Mark hung up. I waited. I ended up waiting two days, until Monday afternoon.

"Hello, can I speak to Stephanie?"

"Speaking. Hi Mark, how can I help you?"

"I didn't receive my financial statements last week. Wanted to know if you know why."

"Yes."

Silence. I'm not going to make this easy for him.

"I would like access to my paperwork again."

Silence. "Is that a request?"

"Yes." Silence. Magic word, Mark. "Please."

"Sure. What do you need?"

Silence on the phone. Hal is shaking with silent laughter. Mark is not enjoying his humbling.

"I need all my regular financial paperwork. All budgeting, spending reports, and forecasting. All the stuff the XOs get every week."

"Ah. OK. I'll call Ryan. Anything else, Mark?"

"No. Thank you."

I call Ryan and lift the order. Ryan asks if Hal's order is still needed; yes, it is.

I get a call back an hour later.

"Stephanie, this is Mark. The accountants still won't release my paperwork to me, and they won't tell me why."

"Mark, if you think carefully about this, you know why and you know who you need to call."

Hal came strolling in two hours later. "Would you like to hear the completely insincere apology, or is it enough to know I got it?" We both laugh.

* * *

The training to meet standards has not been as much fun. It's not that the guys don't try; it's that I really don't want to do this. I want the freedom over my life back, but I've begun to resent the fact that everyone thinks I have to know all this in order to be a bounty hunter. Lula was right; I was a bounty hunter for **four** years. **Four years!** I don't need lessons in how to do my job.

The first time I said this out loud, Hector raised an eyebrow.

"You don't need lessons in how to do this?" He was teaching me how to pick locks, and I was handcuffed with my hands behind my back and had a bobby pin, which I kept dropping.

"Nope," I said. I know I'm acting like a spoiled brat, but really. 100% capture rate. Four years and counting. I'm OK at my job. I'm still alive.

"Fine. I'll put the word out that you don't intend to bounty hunt for the next year."

"Fine." Yeah, this is childish, but it's all I have left.

"OK. When you get out of those handcuffs, you're free to leave," Hector said nonchalantly. He picked up his lock-picking tools and walked out of the apartment.

Hmm . . . might have been a bad time to pick this particular fight.

Two hours later, I still hadn't managed to get free and I needed to pee. Finally, the door opened and Ella walked in with dinner.

"That looks uncomfortable."

"It is. Can you free me, Ella? I really need to pee."

"I don't have a handcuff key, dear. Let me see if I can find one of the men."

She returned minutes later with Ram in tow. Ram took one look at me doing my bunny impression and said, "I'll help you to the bathroom, but I'm not releasing you. You want out, talk to your partner."

"I can make it to the bathroom on my own. I need help getting my clothes off. I need free hands."

"Again, not releasing you. I'm more afraid of Hector than you. The clothes sound like an Ella sort of situation."

Ella helped me to the bathroom and pulled my pants down. I was too desperate to be embarrassed at this point. When she had my panties off and I was seated, I praised God for Ella once again.

I walked out the bathroom calmer, and Ella helped me get my clothes back on. Ram had disappeared and Hector had returned. My dinner was rapidly cooling from Ella-induced perfection.

Hector simply looked at me. "Shall we try this again?"

"No."

I could see Hector assess me coolly. "Do you enjoy being helpless?"

Huh?

"Seriously, _Angelita_, do you enjoy being helpless? Do you enjoy being at the mercy of others? Hoping that Ranger comes to rescue you? That your Merry Men show up in time to save your life? Do you expect your mom to show up to mow me down at some point?"

I hadn't thought about that. Wonder if Mom is . . . no, it's 6:15 PM. She's knee-deep in gravy.

Hector stands up with a pillowcase, which he tosses over my head. A black pillowcase. I can feel myself begin to hyperventilate. This is my worst nightmare.

"Do you enjoy this _Angelita_? Do you enjoy having your panic overwhelm you?" Hector's voice seems to be coming from all directions. I can't make heads or tails of anything.

This is horrible.

I want out.

Please stop.

"Is this a familiar feeling, _Angelita_? Feeling terrified? Feeling afraid? Feeling alone?"

I don't even pretend. I'm on my knees sobbing, big snot bubbles sliding down my face. This is worse than being on the playground with the Slayers or being trapped in the casket by Con Stiva.

Hector is my partner. He's supposed to have my back and he's frightening me on purpose. There's no point to this.

"**Wrong**, _chica_," Hector says unsympathetically. "There **is** a point to this and the point is this: If you intend to do this job, you have to do it **right**. You have to quit relying on luck. You have to quit assuming that we will show up to save you in the nick of time. You have to learn to rely on yourself, on your skills, on your abilities. Right now, at this very moment, Ranger is god knows where. Tank, Lester, and Bobby are in Texas. The rest of the men are downstairs. Who could stop me if I attacked you? Could you even defend yourself if I attacked you?"

No. No no no, I can't defend myself. We haven't started defense training. My arms are handcuffed behind my back and my face is covered. I can't see anything. I'm too afraid to move.

"Exactly." Hector removes the pillowcase from my head and wipes my face with his handkerchief. He pulls me to my feet and hugs me.

"Shhh, sweet _Angelita_. Shhh." He rubs my back and we sway from side to side as I calm down. Finally he looks at me. "What I did was cruel but necessary. I love you, _Angelita_. I want to see you live a long long life. But you don't take your life seriously, which makes me nervous. I haven't survived all these years and gained the reputation that I have to be brought down by you. If we are going to be partners, I need to know that I can rely on you. That's why I'm overseeing the first part of your training, so I can assure myself you're taking it seriously." He walks into the kitchen.

"Why does every one think I have a death wish? I don't have a death wish."

Hector returns from the kitchen with water, a hard look on his face. "Clearly you do. You believe that simply because you've done this job for four years and you're still alive, you don't need training. Well, I want you to consider what might have happened if Ranger had not found that casket in time. If the cross dresser had not seen you, had not had an Uzi, and had not known how to wield that school bus in a deadly manner."

He places the water next to my feet and wipes my faces. "_Chica_, what might have happened if your mother had not known you were in danger and had not chosen to run down the man in the bunny suit? Think, _Angelita_! Your mother committed murder, vehicular homicide, for you! And you and I both know those were just the biggest incidents. Shall I start on the hundreds of little things?"

I shake my head. I'm seated in the chair again, looking at my feet. I don't want to hear this. I don't want to consider those things.

"Aside from the fact that this company is 'lead by example', have you ever considered what it might be like if the cops never had anything to bet on?"

Ooohh, now there's a thought. I look up at Hector, who has a half-smile on his face.

"Have you considered what your life might be like if your mother could never again complain about your job?"

Keep talking, Hector. I like the sound of this.

"Wouldn't it be nice to lock Morelli up with his own handcuffs?"

At this, I look over at Hector sharply. He shrugs.

"You interrupted a poker game. We were all a little surprised to see Ranger leave looking excited and return looking slightly dazed and confused." Hmm . . . something to think about later.

Hector moves to the kitchen. I hear the microwave door shut.

"Now, let's discuss how you get out of the handcuffs then I'll reheat dinner."

It took two hours, but I can now pick most locks. Joe won't know what hit him.

* * *

I never gave Hector another temper tantrum. I took what he said seriously. I know Hector has an infamous reputation, but hearing him tell me that he was afraid for his life because he wasn't sure I could hold my own in the field made me stop and think.

Do all the men think I'm this bad?

I decide to take a small amount of courage and ask. I decide Ram is the best target. Ram is incredibly diplomatic.

"Ram, have a minute?"

"Sure, Bombshell. What's up?"

I motion for him to follow me to my office and shut the door. That gets raised eyebrows.

"If I were your partner and we were in the field, would you trust me to have your back?"

"Hector is your partner. Is there a problem with Hector?" I can see that Ram is clearly hoping that there isn't a problem with Hector.

"No. Just assume for a moment that Hector was unavailable and you and I were in the field. Do you trust me to have your back?"

"Yes, Bombshell. I do."

"So do you think I need all the training that's been assigned to me?"

I see Ram slam his blank face into place. "That wasn't my call to make. It's RangeMan standards. You're the CO."

I sigh. "I'm looking for an honest answer, Ram. How would you assess my abilities in the field?"

Ram is still looking for the trap. I can see him picking his words very carefully. "Well, in the field, my strength is target acquisition and elimination, preferably rifle-based and long range."

Translation: I prefer to lay low and shoot. Sniper. Need I say more?

"If we were in the field together, I would expect that we would be out there looking for a target that required a non-traditional method of capture."

Translation: I assume that I don't get to shoot and you're running a distraction.

"Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, Bombshell. The goal of RangeMan standards is to minimize weaknesses. Every man, and woman, must meet standards because it puts us all on a level playing field, a base minimum, and everyone knows that each man has a basic core of abilities. From there, each man's particular strengths can push us over the top."

Translation: You need all the training you can get. Your specialty is mayhem and confusion, and we can only use that in small quantities. And only in certain situations.

I nod. Diplomat. I wonder where I can buy Ram an 'Idiot's Guide to Being a Politician'.

"Did you know that even the housekeepers and maintenance men have to meet standards?"

What! Is he kidding? I know my surprise must show on my face because Ram nods.

"Yeah. There's a set of standards for them too. Not so much being able to run a mile but standards for the range and driving and certain other essential skills."

"You mean Ella logs range time?" I can't imagine pretty petite Ella handling guns.

Ram smiles. "Yeah, she hates guns as much as you do, but she logs her range time. Every Thursday morning at 7AM she and Luis are down in the range. They've made it a game between them. Winner buys ice cream on date night."

I consider that. Ella has motivation to get down there. She and Luis have made it a game between them. "Is Luis former military?"

"Nope. Civilian, but when he started work here and I came onboard, I helped both of them get better. Ranger had been teaching them up to that point." Ram grins. "Ranger was thrilled to pass that duty off to me. Ella liked to twist his ears when he wouldn't listen to her. I had my ears twisted more than I care to think of until she met standards." Ram grimaces but smiles at the memory.

I grin. I'm trying to imagine Ella twisting the men's ears and I can imagine it happening with everyone except Ranger.

Thursday morning at 7:30, I'm down in the range. I make it there just in time to watch Ella and Luis trash talk each other in the lanes. Apparently, this is considered highly amusing among the men because I see the cameras pointed toward them and the men in the range are hiding smiles.

Ella is taunting Luis. "Come on _cariño_, can't you shoot'em up better than that? I got the paper man in the crotch and three to the heart. Whatchu got?" The men all grimace slightly and smile. Wimps.

Luis stands up straight and glowers at his wife. "I have respect for the paper man's _cojones_," every RangeMan is nodding, "so I got five to the heart, clustered. Beat that, _querida_. Ram should see this." Ram, who had just entered before me, hurries forward to check both targets and declares Luis the winner. Ella scowls playfully then spots me.

"Stephanie! What do you think? I think I should get another point for getting the paper man in the crotch!"

I grin. The men are looking at me in shock. I hate the range, so to see me there is surprising. I'm certain I've never been there before noon either. "I think she's right, Ram. Can't she get another point for that? After all, if I shot you in your _cojones_, you wouldn't move anymore either." At this all the Merry Men groan and twist slightly. Wimps. Even the thought of something happening to their precious cojones makes them whimper.

"The point is to take 'em down, Steph. Kill, not injure," Ram replies.

"If I shoot you in the cojones, I'd kill you. Maybe not on that shot, but since you'd drop the gun to clutch your balls, I have a free shot after that." I smile. The logic is sound, and I can see that Ram knows it even though he doesn't want to agree.

"That assumes you still have bullets, but fine, Ella can have another point if we can leave my cojones out of this discussion. Please quit threatening them. Luis still wins."

Ella is happy and so am I. I considered what Ram said yesterday, so I ask Ella and Luis if they would mind if I spent part of my range time with them. They were happy to have me join them, so I decide to shuffle my schedule around so that I can spend some time in the range with Ella. If we share a mutual hatred of guns, then sharing the range time might not be so bad. Thanks to the 7AM Core Team call, Ella can spend 30 minutes trash talking with Luis and I can spend time with the both of them afterwards.

Not bad. I might be able to work this out in my favor.

* * *

**OK, so it's time for a side story. Check out Chapter 2 of Change in the Wind: The Side Stories. Chapter Title: _Congratulations!_.**


	24. The CO is NOT the Branch!

**A/N: There is a link to the reporting structure on my profile.**

* * *

**Chapter 24: The CO is NOT the Branch!**

**Ram's POV**

The first month in charge of RM Trenton has been a shocker. I always thought I had a handle on what the Core Team did, based on having run point in the past. I couldn't have been further from the truth.

I owe Bobby a bottle of tequila. The man did this job **and** served as the medic. He's a freakin' genius.

Being the head of Client Services was an entirely new world for me. The client calls weren't so bad, although Manny required I get a haircut before we went. I flipped him the finger but got the haircut. We went around to the high end clients and Manny introduced me as the new VP of Client Services for RangeMan Trenton- first time I'd gotten to use the title. He pimped my Special Forces background during every client call, and I finally told him that if he was going to treat me like that, I required payment later and dinner first.

He laughed.

"As Lester said to me, welcome to the world of client calls. The idea is to make them feel that we don't have just **anyone** looking after their accounts. We have a Special Forces vet and the VP of Client Services coming to meet them personally. Besides, you have Lester's silver tongue. I fully expected to spend an hour per call when I went out with Les. He was in and out in 20 minutes. You were in and out in 30. Not bad."

Well, it's nice to know I'm competent at this new job so far. Makes up for having to live in a suit. Man, I miss black SWAT.

I took the stack of unhappy client reports and went to see each one personally. Again, I was in and out in 30 minutes after calming ruffled nerves and personally promising to follow up on each incident. Most were minor incidents and simply required that we reposition a sensor or adjust a camera.

Only two incidents required true ego stroking. One of our jewelry clients maintained that our incident response team had been rude to his daughter when they arrived. I went back to the office, reviewed the tape and found that not only had we not been rude but that the daughter had been downright abusive to our men, calling them 'thugs' and 'hooligans'. I took a copy of the tape back to the client and played it for him in front of his daughter, who turned red.

"Ma'am, our men are wired for audio and video. When we respond to a client distress call, we want to have extra eyes scanning the perimeter to determine if we need to send extra men out. We also record all interactions. It eliminates the possibility of confusion or allegations of misappropriation later. I also have video, sir, if you wish to see it."

The client was apologizing to me as I left.

The second incident was the hard one. One of our Platinum customers, a bank manager, called me back requesting to meet with me. He wouldn't elaborate what the meeting was about over the phone, so I had a pretty good idea. I arrived and was shown to Mr. Johnson's office.

"Mr. Sinclair, I am informing you now that I intend to move my monitoring and security services from RangeMan Trenton to another company. I no longer have any faith that the security services from your company meet my company's requirements for discretion and competency."

I've been expecting this, so I raise my hand. He nods for me to proceed.

"I've been expecting this. You are concerned because of the press release announcing Ms. Plum as the Managing Director of RangeMan, LLC."

He nods and takes a sip of water.

"In light of Ms. Plum's history and reputation for, shall we say, fantastical captures, you assume that RangeMan Trenton will no longer be able to meet your company's standards for discretion and competency."

Again, Mr. Johnson nods. Good. I've had this speech planned ever since I took the job and I've been prepared to give it time and time again. Plus, I cribbed part of it from Ranger's explanation at the Plum family dinner.

"However, were you aware that it was Ms. Plum who exposed the burglary ring that was running here in Trenton? Caught them red-handed, assisted in the retrieval of the stolen goods, and provided the DA with the evidence needed for conviction?" At this, Mr. Johnson raises an eyebrow. "Were you aware that it was Ms. Plum's work that led to the dismissal of charges against a Trenton policeman and the apprehension of multiple killers?"

Mr. Johnson's mouth twitches. Yeah. Like most people, he's heard the stories but didn't know what was behind them.

"Did you know that it was Ms. Plum who exposed the theft of multiple munitions and who uncovered a gamer murder ring? Were you aware that Ms. Plum is the **only** Bond Enforcement Agent on the East Coast with a 100% capture rate?"

By this point, Mr. Johnson has shifted in his seat. "Hmm…well, no. I was not aware of that. 100% capture rate? She's caught every man she's been contracted to retrieve?"

I nod. "Yes, Sir." Steph is underestimated just as much as we are. "As you can see, I was prepared to answer these types of questions. I'm well aware that for our elite customers, such as yourself, the idea of Ms. Plum in charge of RangeMan Trenton gives you pause. You're not sure if you really want to trust your security to the woman rumored to have blown up Stiva's."

At this, Mr. Johnson chuckles. Yes, please, fall into my trap.

"Some of those fantastical stories are not quite correct, not that newspaper reporters and gossip grapevines are concerned with accuracy. What's important and less well known is that Ms. Plum has a history of excelling in her chosen field, a field in which she does not hold the traditional background and training. However, she has something most of us would kill to have: natural talent. Nevertheless, does that translate into running a multi-million dollar security business?"

I see Mr. Johnson blink. Most people aren't aware of exactly how successful RangeMan is.

"The answer is yes. Ms. Plum has a background and degree in business. She worked as a buyer before becoming a Bond Enforcement Agent so she understands the financials. She's worked almost every job at RangeMan Trenton so she has a good understanding of what is required of every man in the field."

I can see Mr. Johnson is seriously considering what I've said. I smile and take a sip of water. Now to bring it home. "In her current role, Ms. Plum's job is a more office-based role, a high level executive. She has the responsibility for overseeing five offices from Miami to Boston. She's not running any one branch. The person now in charge of the day-to-day functions of RangeMan Trenton is Henry Linden, and if you would like to meet him, I can arrange that. I simply ask that you not move too hastily from RangeMan and give us an opportunity to show that the same standards of discretion and excellence still stand at RangeMan Trenton."

I take another sip of my water and watch Mr. Johnson covertly. He's watching me carefully, trying to determine what he wants to do.

"Mr. Sinclair, you remind me of Lester Santos."

I chuckle. I can't wait to get into the car. I'm going to laugh my ass off.

"I mean that. I always got the feeling I was being led down the primrose path with him," Mr. Johnson says, smiling. "Fine, Mr. Sinclair, I won't move our security contract, but I will watch to ensure that the same standards are being upheld. And I would like to meet Mr. Linden. I want to know that my bank won't blow up."

I decide not to tell him that Hal is a munitions expert. We stand and shake hands and Mr. Johnson shakes his head.

"I've followed the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter' stories for years," he says. "I was aware of some of what you mentioned but not all of it. Certainly not the 100% capture rate. That's impressive, and it's pretty much what has convinced me not to move my contract. Well, that and the fact that someone else is actually in charge." We both laugh, and I turn to leave.

At Haywood, I relay the story to both Manny and Hal and we have a good laugh. I tell Hal to find some time on his schedule to come with me on this client call.

Manny turns and looks at us both. "Write down the relevant facts from that speech. I get the feeling the three of us will have to deliver it a few times."

"Have we lost any contracts?" Hal asks.

"Not yet, but believe me, our biggest clients are nervous," Manny replies. I can see him thinking about what to do, and we speak at the same time.

"Preemptive strike." We both blink and laugh.

"Huh?" says Hal, confused.

"Preemptive strike, Hal. In other words, clear your schedule and pull out your suit," I reply. "You and I are going around to every one of our Platinum and Gold clients and calming them before anyone has a chance to poach them."

It took two weeks, but it was the right move strategically. We calmed all of our biggest customers, some of whom were ready to present us with final checks the moment we walked in. I think the very sight of Hal led them to believe that all would be fine at RangeMan Trenton. The knowledge that Steph wasn't actually running the branch was the icing on the cake for most of them.

I broke open the tequila Bobby left after we finished the last call and the Core Team spent a night getting completely drunk. After two weeks of that, I could see why the job had been split between Bobby and Lester. Lester has the silver tongue and Bobby has the patience.

We're also determined to burn every necktie we own. Black SWAT is where it's at, baby.

* * *

The fourth Wednesday we were in charge, Hal held a staff meeting in Conference 1. We requested Steph not attend. It was branch matters only. I think we may have hurt her feelings slightly, but we wanted to draw a line between CO and branch. Plus, we had things to say that concerned her that she didn't necessarily need to hear. We had contract workers cover the monitors for the day and suspended all monitoring in the room. She's sneaky, so we had to thwart her listening in.

Once every man, and Ella, was in attendance, we got started. Hal went over the new reporting structure of RM Trenton, denoting changes in title and authority as required. We explained that there might be slight changes in the future, depending on how the current responsibility allocations worked out, but they would be kept informed.

We then moved into the structure of RangeMan, LLC. This was enlightening for all the men, because we realized that for the first time everyone was being shown the reporting structure. We contacted Tank about doing this and he approved it, sending back a flowchart with the lines of authority.

Once we got a look at it, some of the thoughts that had been niggling in the back of my mind were cleared up. Manny was betting that Leadership Core would probably never again take active day-to-day responsibility for a branch unless they were bringing one up. They would step back and think up the big ideas, bring up more branches, or (maybe) take on more black ops work.

We decided not to share his gut instinct with the men until we had more intel.

Even though Steph was known internally as the CO, according to the charts, for the outside world she was the Managing Director and was the only step between the Chief Executives (Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Bobby) and the XOs. Essentially, she held the day-to-day power over all the branches.

I think that blew everyone's minds away. No one was quite sure how Steph fit into the structure, but now it was clear.

She really was our boss.

That was the day every man in RangeMan Trenton realized that this was no temporary move. This had been planned out well in advance. This was going to be permanent.

It was time to start finessing the CO. Flowers seem to be working. Would chocolate gifts be inappropriate?

Finally, Hal got around to discussing Steph directly. "Men, let me be clear. The SOPs in regards to the CO remain in place. At the moment, we are working with her to meet RangeMan standards, but that does not give you leave to drop. You will still be required to meet, indeed, exceed standards. We expect nothing less."

There were nods around the room. Everyone already knew that, but best to say it anyway. That way no one could play the fool.

"In addition, we must be careful about how our treatment of the CO is perceived. The Core Team has already been given a warning that the Trenton office's affection for the CO is obvious. This is nothing for us to be ashamed of. However, she is also our boss. We must respond to her as if she were Ranger. Inside this building, we can treat her like our little sister, but in front of outsiders and outside this building, we cannot diminish her authority. We cannot undermine her."

Hal's face takes on a hard edge. I know where he's going next, and I stand next to him at the front of the room, hard blank face in place. Manny does the same on Hal's other side.

"The only place where we have room to question her orders is in regards to her safety. Hector is her partner and he will be in charge of organizing her personal safety, but if you are in her company and Hector is not available, you need to do what is best for her safety, regardless of her wishes. If she refuses to comply, call me or Hector immediately. We will discuss it with her. Still, make every effort to keep her safe without diminishing her authority. Is that clear?" Hal says. He is adamant that Tank will not take him to the mats because Steph got hurt.

"**Sir, Yes Sir**." The room echoes and it's clear that each man is relieved by that order. Knowing that they have the freedom to do what is right for Steph's safety has calmed every man in the room.

"Finally, I want to make it very clear to every man in this room: Moles will not be tolerated." Hal looks each man in the eye and everyone nods. "I am aware that the XO from Boston is desperate to have a man feeding him information from this branch. He has his own subversive reasons for doing so. Any man caught or suspected of feeding information from this branch to **anyone** will find himself on the mats daily with the Core Team for two straight weeks. Are we clear?"

Hal might as well have issued a death threat.

"**HUA!**"

"This branch has been complimented for being tight knit and closed mouth. I want to continue that tradition. We have a history of excellence here at RangeMan Trenton. It will not slip simply because there has been a change in management. Understood?"

"**HUA!**"

* * *

I called Danny and asked if Chase had any bids he was going after any time soon. Manny and I were working with Steph on planning her first branch call to Atlanta, and I figured that I might stick around and learn from Chase during the visit. He was happy to know I might stick around an extra week or two, but since Steph had just given the go-ahead for Hospitality services, he thought that we should get together with Manny and Danny (hahaha, Manny and Danny) and work through bids in our area in a conference call.

Talk about an eye opener. After the first day, I asked Chase if he could fly up and help me make sense of it. He arrived two days later and we set him up in an apartment on 4. Steph was on hand to greet him.

"Chase, welcome to Trenton. I'm Stephanie, and it's great to meet you."

Chase is 6ft, with close cropped black hair and brown eyes. He looks like Bobby. He was also completely speechless meeting Steph. I smirked from my position behind her. Yeah, man. Meeting her for the first time does blow your mind. She's hot, dude. Just remember, she's Ranger's.

He bent over and kissed her hand, and I had to turn to hide my laughter. Every man on the 5th floor was hiding a smile.

"Ms. Plum, it's a true pleasure to meet you." The man had a true southern drawl and looked as if he was trying not to faint. "Thank you for the warm welcome. You're more beautiful than Danny described."

At this, Steph blushed and every man at RMTrenton, including me, narrowed his eyes at Chase. Was he being polite or did he have a death wish?

Chase finally lifted his eyes and spotted me. I suppose the look on my face must have promised murder, because he blushed, turned back to Steph and said, "Might I be excused from your presence to settle in? I don't want to keep you from anything you need to be doing at this moment."

Steph made a face. "I'm headed to the gym. Treadmill time." She looked over at Woody. "Make sure you log that I'm going."

"No problem Steph," Woody said, still looking at Chase. Steph finally left and Chase looked at all of us. He raised his hands.

"Don't shoot. I come in peace. And now that she's gone, I have all my wits back. How can any of you keep a single thought in your heads with her around?" Chase looked at me for an answer.

"Ranger," I replied.

Chase immediately straightened and shook his head. "That did it. Thanks. Appreciate that."

I gave him a smile and extended my hand. He shook, still looking slightly dazed.

"We've had time to develop some immunity, but don't stick around when she eats. I'm warning you." This warning got a small chuckle from every RMTrenton man nearby.

"Why? Does she lack table manners?" Chase asked, following me to the stairwell.

I could hear Binkie and Woody laugh behind us.

"You know that part in _When Harry Met Sally_ when Meg Ryan's character is faking an orgasm and the woman next to her says, 'I'll have what she's having?'" I ask.

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Chick flick."

I smirked. "Google it." I left him to get settled in Apartment 3 and told him to find me in my office on 3 later.

Thirty minutes later he walked into my office and sat. "That loud?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Could make a dead man pound nails."

* * *

Having Chase around for a week was fantastic. Don't get me wrong, I know Danny sent him here to check out our office. We quietly informed the men to treat him as a 'friendly' subversive until we had the full measure of his visit. Otherwise, he was matter-of-fact and to the point about how to search for and walk through bids for service.

His presence in Trenton helped me put together packages to walk through six bids for Hospitality services in Trenton and Philly. Another $1.25 million in work. Hal and Steph were both thrilled and Manny immediately pulled his red folder (one day, I'm going to steal that folder and figure out what he has in there). In return, I helped him finalize his bids for Atlanta. We lost two before Steph advised us to dial down. Then we won eight for Atlanta, going after slightly smaller bids. $3 million dollars in work for him. I learned he had an entire team to help him do this in Atlanta.

"My territory is three times bigger than yours. There's no way that I can handle all of it alone," he said. Steph was present and taking notes. Chase had lost the ability to look her in the eyes after we went to Shorty's for pizza. Hell, I had trouble walking back to the car. The woman knows not what she does.

"So how many people do you have?" Steph asked.

"For client services, six. One in Birmingham, one in Savannah, two in Atlanta with me, one in Charlotte and one in Knoxville. I really need another person in Charlotte, since it's become so popular, but we've got to get the reserves in better shape first." He realized what he said and fell quiet. Steph made a note and smiled.

"But you guys need more people, right?"

He smiled. She was allowing him to cover his goof. I wonder what's wrong with Atlanta's reserves. "Yeah, we need more people." He then proceeded to walk both of us through the process for answering government bids, commercial bids, special event bids, everything.

Finally, Steph sat back with a hand over her face. "Do we have these procedures written down anywhere?"

Chase and I both frowned. Nope, don't think so.

"So what your frowns are telling me is that we have chapters in the SOPs for examining the CO's packages but nothing written on how to go after client work?" Steph said, looking at us, bewildered.

Good point. We both shrug.

"OK, well, that sounds to me like a company-wide project for the Client Services people. I'd like to see you guys get started, pull together a group, appoint a leader, and get some SOPs for handling client bids. I don't care if each branch has slight variations; I want to be able to go to one document and figure out how to do it if I needed to."

It's a good idea. This is why Steph is in charge. 10-4.


	25. Intel

**A/N: I'm feeling anxious to check in on Ranger and Joe, aren't you?**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Intel**

**Joe's POV **

I've been training in Miami for almost five weeks and I really love the city. The vibe, the atmosphere, the food, the half-naked women. This is great.

The only fly in the gelato is Mañoso.

I'm under constant surveillance by the man. I'm sure this is his dream- to be able to openly tail me, track my movements, and monitor everything I do. I realize that since I've been chipped, I won't have a moment of privacy on this case. I wonder if he knows when I take a shit. Do those tracking chips give him that much detail?

In order to keep it interesting for him, I'm narrating my life for him, moment by moment. If he's listening in, he's now aware of exactly how much I hate him (_"I just finished taking my morning shit…it was massive…and by the way, I hate you, Mañoso.")._ It also relieves the boredom and frustration. I continue to call my mother weekly and get the updates on the Burg news. Marriages, divorces, adultery, run of the mill stuff. Until today.

"Joey, you'll never believe this! You'll never guess!" My mother is excited, whatever it is. I wonder who's pregnant now.

"What is it Ma?" I lie back on the bed and get comfortable. It's going to take her a while.

"Stephanie Plum has been named Managing Director of RangeMan LLC. That thug put her in charge of his entire business!"

OK, that's something. I sit up in bed, stunned. She's gotta be kidding.

"Are you sure, Mom? That sounds a little unlikely. I mean, Mañoso's hired her in the past, but only for small stuff." I'm moving for my laptop. I have to see if I can find something on this.

"I'm certain, Joey. They issued a press release and everything. Take a look at their website." My mother is beyond excited about this. I can tell this has to be the biggest bit of gossip in the Burg. "Everyone in the Burg is talking about it, how Stephanie went from just staying there for her leg to working there. From what I hear, her grandmother has moved into her apartment and she's still staying in the building. And there are new people in charge at the office. No one knows what's going on in there. You should call your police buddies … oh, right. You can't."

I can hear my mother's disappointment. She wants the newest gossip. I'm surfing to the website and I find the news release. Holy Hell, Momma is right. Mañoso is insane.

"Anyway, I'll see what I can get, Joey." We disconnect.

I'm reading the press release, trying to understand. Cupcake is the Managing Director. What in the hell is that? Henry Linden, Ramsay Sinclair, and Manuel Sanchez are now in charge. Well, that sounds like it might be Hal and Ram. I know the third guy as a former feeb who got shot during the Scrog mess. I still can't believe anyone in law enforcement would voluntarily work for Mañoso.

Maybe the guy is bent. TPD found out that he left the Bureau with a clean record and multiple commendations but still, my current case proves it's possible.

I've listened more than Cupcake thinks and learned as many names as I could. Cupcake is the only way we, TPD, learn anything about Mañoso's organization. Of course, since she's so loyal to him, the most we get is nicknames, but it's a start. I can probably name about 15 of Mañoso's men now. I know about 10 of them on sight.

I still can't make any sense of this press release. I thought Mañoso had standards for his company. Weapons, combat, all that stuff. Does this mean she has to get training? I mean, this sounds like a desk job, so maybe not, but if it isn't a desk job and she has to get training, I'm in favor of that.

I feel hopeful. Maybe she took our discussion seriously if she's working for Mañoso and getting training or working a desk job. I can take this. A nice desk job, no Mañoso for a year, and protected by his men. They might be a bunch of criminals, but they'll tear a man to shreds for her. Yes, this is the sort of job, a steady desk job, that I can handle Cupcake doing. It's perfect, even if it is working for **him**. If she's finally getting training, then maybe she's started considering the other things I talked about. Maybe I'll hear she's ready for a trip to Italy. God I hope so. Maybe this nightmare is about to be over.

Maybe I should have given her an ultimatum earlier instead of letting this drag out.

I'm not pleased that she's living in his building. I'm hoping she's living in the other apartments on premises. I don't think I even want to contemplate her living in his apartment. Even without him there. No. I don't want to think about that. I wish now that I had not agreed to allow Momma to rent the house. Cupcake could stay there if she needed a home and still wanted to help get her grandmother out her parents' home. And there's no way I can offer her the house now. I'm now officially on this case. I'm incommunicado.

Damn.

* * *

I head to RangeMan Miami the next morning. I have to admit, Mañoso's Miami headquarters is nice. TPD would love this place; it has the best of everything. New, heavily modified cars with all kinds of features. Great gun range with every weapon imaginable (exactly what use does Mañoso have for a surface to air missile launcher?) and multiple lanes. Spectacular gym. I've heard rumors about boats. The housekeeper, Maria, is kind to me and leaves me little treats. I haven't seen a pizza in weeks, but Latin food in Miami is on an entirely different level. There's something called an _empanada_ and these little potato things, _papas rellenas,_ that I'm learning require another 30 minutes on the treadmill to burn off.

Mañoso's men are serious about his orders. I was startled when they showed up at my apartment 24 hours after I moved in and announced that I needed to follow them to RangeMan Miami. I went, only because I know Mañoso had arranged it and I was curious to see this location. I met Armando, who outlined what they had been ordered to provide me by orders of the CO. I was given a key fob that would get me into the garage, the gun range, and the gym without difficulty. Anywhere else on premises I would have to be escorted. He also stated, with a little distaste, that the key fob would get me into those same places at any RangeMan location so I needed to be careful with it.

I'm still a little surprised to be in possession of a RangeMan key fob. I wonder where Cupcake can go with hers? Too bad I can't manage a little switcheroo and find out. I'm sure it has its own tracking device, and I'm absolutely certain that they'll take it from me the moment this case is over.

Mañoso ordered them to get me understanding 75% of Spanish conversations in 2 months. They've taken that order to the extreme, drilling me constantly on Spanish nouns, verbs, and shit-talking. No one even attempts to say anything to me in English anymore and it wasn't until I spoke to Maria that I understood that the standard operating language in the Miami office was Spanish. So they're accustomed to speaking it all the time and it reinforces the language for anyone who speaks Spanish as a second language. _Shit!_ On the plus side, I understand most, say 80%, of what I hear at this point, I just can't get the words to come out.

I also have to be able to meet male military fitness standards, which is apparently the baseline fitness requirement in this office. They require more, but since I'm not an employee, they won't push me to their standard and since I'm Navy, they decided to test me against the standards I already knew. _Shit!_ There's a list of reasons why I left the Navy, and the treadmill was high on the list. I hated that shit. Thankfully, the guys realize I'm still an excellent swimmer so they pass me on the swimming part of physical. I just gotta get up to the 10 minute mile in the next two weeks.

I head up the stairs (I learned quickly that taking the elevator was discouraged unless you wanted to be termed a _coño_. Took me days to figure out what _coño_ was) and hit the range area. I'm getting prepped when I hear three of the guys walk in.

"_Sí, Armando, dijo el jefe dejó su mujer a su cargo. En realidad, nadie cree que la mierda hasta que el comunicado de prensa salió._" (Yeah, Armando said the boss left his woman in charge. No one really believed that shit until the press release came out.)

"_¿En serio? Respondemos a coño ahora? Es la sensación jefe OK?"_ (Really? We answer to pussy now? Is the boss feeling OK?)

"_Yo, ver esa mierda. Coño o no, ella todavía la mujer del jefe. Las paredes tienen oídos, hermano, y que me aspen si el jefe me necesita para las esteras por no respetar a su mujer_." (Yo, watch that shit. Pussy or not, she's still the boss's woman. The walls have ears, bro, and I'll be damned if the boss takes me to the mats for disrespecting his woman.)

There's a moment of silence before the first guy continues.

"_Verdadero. Mira, sé qué está pasando, pero ella es el jefe ahora. Nosotros respondemos a ella. Él le dio completa autoridad. Estoy seguro de que Mark tiene un aneurisma en Boston."_ (True. Look, we dunno what's going on but she's the boss now. We answer to her. He gave her complete authority. I'm sure Mark's having an aneurysm in Boston.)

I simply can't believe what I'm hearing. Mañoso truly left Cupcake in charge of his entire business. I kept thinking about it all night, and the more I thought, the unhappier I was. Is he that rich that he can survive the loss of his entire fucking company, because I guarantee you she doesn't know what she's doing. How could she? Nothing in her past could prepare her for doing whatever a 'Managing Director' does, and I don't want her to fail. I know she hates to fail, so why would Mañoso set her up like this?

So part of this hellish situation still hasn't changed. She still depends on him for help. She's working for him again. He's given her access to whatever she wants, or at least, whatever he's willing to share with her. He still has me under surveillance.

Damn! I thought that maybe she'd made progress untangling her life from him but maybe not.

I can't help it, I gotta ask. I walk around the corner and, sure enough, it's Rico and Julio talking with a third guy. Don't know him. Don't care.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Mañoso left her in charge of his company? Is he an idiot? Is he insane?"

My outburst gets no response from any of the men. It's literally as if they are looking right through me. I've often wondered if Mañoso brainwashed his men when he hired them; this is not helping dispel that idea.

"Español," Rico says.

I hate these bastards. 'The boss said' is taken as literal law here, not as a suggestion, and they follow him like ducks. I can't think of half the words I need to say. I understand it when spoken. I'm having a mental block against speaking it.

Thankfully, I'm rescued by the chief bastard himself.

"_Ya lo tengo. Retírate_." (I got it. Stand down.)

He motions for me to follow him, and we walk up the stairs to the 5th floor, the monitoring floor. He waves me into an office and I walk in. He grabs me, lifts me, and slams me against the door I just walked through. I'm completely caught off guard. I can feel him moving to cut off my air supply and I can't break his hold. I try kicking his legs but mine are pinned too. _Shit!_

"_Non è mai in dubbio la mia sanità mentale o miei ordini di fronte ai miei uomini di nuovo_," (Don't you ever question my sanity or my orders in front of my men again) he growls. He tightens his forearm against my throat until I nod, tears in my eyes. He lets go abruptly and I sink to the floor, trying to catch my breath.

I really hate that this bastard speaks Italian. Perfect fucking Italian. I'm struggling in his language and he can bust my ass open in mine.

He moves back behind a desk and waves for me to take a seat. I stand, looking at him as if he were insane. Last time you offered me something, asshole, you threw me against a door. Remember? Happened not two minutes ago? He waits; I continue to stand. Eventually he shrugs his shoulders.

"_Questo ufficio ha problemi di genere e l'ultima cosa di cui ho bisogno è i miei uomini che cercano di rendere la vita Steph è ancora più difficile per il prossimo anno. Capire?"_ (This office has gender issues, and the last thing I need is my men trying to make Steph's life even more difficult over the next year. Understand?)

I nod. Why did you put her in charge if you knew she'd walk into problems? I don't get it. It makes no sense.

Mañoso sits back in the chair and looks at me. Eventually, his lips twitch into a wry smile.

"_Sai, Morelli, per qualcuno che afferma di amare così tanto, si ha realmente non pensano molto di lei, vero?"_ (You know, Morelli, for someone who claims to love her so much, you really don't think much of her, do you?)

I blink. What the fuck does he mean? I do love Cupcake. I just don't understand what he's up to. There has to be a trick here.

"_Voglio dire, qualcuno le dà qualcosa da fare, un po 'di responsabilità, mostra un po' di fede in lei e la prima risposta, invece di congratularmi con lei mentalmente o augurandole il meglio, è assumere che loro sono insano."_ (I mean, someone gives her something to do, some responsibility, shows some belief in her and your first response, instead of mentally congratulating her or wishing her the best, is to assume that they're insane.)

I'm tempted to tell him he's wrong, that my first response was pleasure that she had what sounded like a desk job. I'm suspicious about his motives. I can't understand the reasoning behind this decision. I'm angry that he has the means to offer her his entire company and is insane enough not to worry that she might bankrupt the entire thing. If the rest of the branches are like this, then this fucker is beyond rich, and I'll never be able to offer her anything like this. Another reason to hate him. I don't like comparing myself to him, but being in his building every day is like having him shove his money in my face.

Manoso looks at me coolly. "_È questa la tua idea di amore, di sostegno? Per apertamente il suo deridere, sminuire il suo, mettere in dubbio le sue capacità? Nessuna meraviglia lei non ti sposerà. Cazzo il mio essere nella foto. Tu sei un asino_" (Is that your idea of love, of support? To openly mock her, belittle her, cast doubt on her abilities? No wonder she won't marry you. Fuck my being in the picture. You're an ass.)

I've had enough of this. I flip him the bird and throw open the door. Half of RangeMan Miami is milling around outside the door, trying to listen.

"_Cualquiera de ustedes, cabrones entender italiano?_"(Any of you fuckers understand Italian?) I wait. No response. "_No? Entonces estás jodido tratando de escuchar nuestras conversaciones. _(No? Then you're screwed trying to listen to our conversations.)

There's silence on the floor and finally applause as I stalk toward the stairwell.

I finally did it. I managed to get past the mental block. My first true sentence in Spanish is to tell the men of RangeMan Miami where to get off.

I need the gun range. Now.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

I hear Morelli stalk down my hallway and smile. I love rattling this fucker, and I'm actually proud that his first sentence in Spanish is to tell my men to stop eavesdropping.

Les underestimates the gender issues in this office. Steph is going to have a real problem here. These men really do believe that Maria lives to serve them, and they take her for granted. The treatment is not the same as the way the Trenton men treat Ella. So, I make a quick decision: Babe just gained a personal assistant for two months. I'll send Ella here. When the men here learn to appreciate having a housekeeper, then they can have Maria back. Ella will **teach** them to appreciate having a housekeeper.

I call Ella, detail my plan to her. Ella is the only person I would trust with something like this. I can tell that Ella is not exactly pleased at first, but the more I describe the situation, the more interested she is in helping. By the end of the call, Ella can't wait to perform an attitude adjustment on Maria and the men of Miami.

I call Hal. He's surprised to hear from me. "Sir, how can I help?"

I detail my plan to him and explain that I already have Ella's approval.

"Yes, sir. I'll coordinate with Ella on this. Anything else, sir?"

"CO?"

"Doing well, sir." I'm aware. I see the status reports. Babe is making waves. I realize this is the best part of this op; for the first time, I'll be able to take a moment to peek into the status of my company while undercover.

I call Maria to my office. She arrives with a tray of treats. Oh _Dios_. Housekeeper, not maid.

"Maria." I kiss her cheeks and motion for her to put the treats away. She should know by now that I won't touch them. "How are you?"

"I am doing well, Ranger. How are you? Do you need anything?"

I need you not to be the men's doormat, that's what I need. "I have an assignment for you. Ella is in need of some R & R time, so I'm transferring her here. I would like you to take her place in Trenton for two months. Assignment may run longer. Can you do this for me?" I can see her confusion. Moving men around is one thing; moving housekeepers?

"Certainly, Ranger. When do you want me to leave?" Unlike Ella, Maria asks no questions.

"Coordinate with Ella. Tell no one in this branch." With a nod, Maria leaves.

Good. Now to arrange Morelli's life in Dover.

* * *

**A/N: I've provided a handy gang terminology dictionary in the post-script. All conversations in Spanish.**

So far, this op has gone pretty well. I was able to start a campaign of misinformation through Trent to eliminate the idea that we were starting a takedown of federal agents. Since no one has moved for six weeks, I'm hearing chatter in the network that the threat level is high, everyone's on alert, but the threat assessment is being termed low.

Idiots.

I'm trying to keep a low profile, rarely speaking to the men and going about my business, following up on leads that I have. I already know that I won't start Morelli in Miami. I'm going to move him to Dover. By some shitty stroke of luck, he has the most experience of any officer on this op, so I'll put him in the area where I need the most help, where I have the least intel.

Now that he's gotten past the mental block, I'll move him in two weeks. I need to begin making arrangements for him to live and work there. The other officers have started their ops and are doing decently well, for the most part. One agent, from Georgia, is doing an excellent job and if she continues like this, I'll move her here to Florida for the last part of the op.

I leave the office and slide into my Mercedes. I need to look successful, but not worth hijacking for this meeting. Mercedes are common in Miami; the Porsche or Lamborghini would be jacked immediately. I head into Little Havana and pull up to a bodega I used to frequent as a kid. This trip requires three guns, two knives, and Kevlar under the suit. This part of Little Havana is not a place to play around. The _Reyes_ standing around the bodega eye me, but I'm not an unknown so I pass through without the normal pat down.

Piman is waiting in the bodega. Rogelio, aka Piman, is one of the few _Reyes_ that I know from my time in the gang who is still alive and not currently doing time. He's an Inca now, and no matter how many times they try, DEA cannot get anything on him. I've been offered the contract unknown times, but this is my boy. He once saved my life so I won't be the one. I let him know every time I get a contract offer. We greet each other and I take note of the number of soldiers he's brought along for this meeting. I smile mentally. I remember these days, before the juvie stint and college, sitting around a bodega while the _jefes_ and Incas talked business.

_Dios_, I was stupid back then. Thank god that's over.

Piman is quiet while I check for bugs. I know he's already done it, but my device is more powerful. I pick up two bugs and make note of the likely locations. Gotta be DEA again, probably ATF. We'll stay away from the back left corner. I nod. We're good to talk.

"I hear word there's an attempt to come with power," Piman says quietly.

"Where?"

"A-Town. Ya boys in charge done a ghost already. NC."

"How you lookin?" I get a raised eyebrow. Arrogant fucker, but I know Piman handles his. He hasn't remained on top this long to go down on stupid shit.

"Yeah, yo boys already checked in." Shit. This is not what I need, but it gives me a lead. I can check to see who put them in protective custody.

One of Piman's soldiers walks in. "Yo, glass house outside. Ours?"

I shift slightly, let him see the 9 mm. "If you need a bus ticket home."

His eyes widen slightly and he nods. Now he knows to keep an eye on the car.

"Mine," Piman says, hiding a smile.

"Not if he fucks with the car," I growl. I'm not going to be left stranded here.

Piman shrugs. "News?"

I consider telling him Steph's in charge. He shouldn't have to come in contact with her, but still. . .if some shit happens in Miami he'll find out first. He keeps an ear to the ground for me now for chatter about Julie. The number of _Reyes_ looking for her when Scrog had her still touches me, even though they knew I would never come back. Yeah. Better he should know. After Tank, Lester, Bobby, and Hector, Piman would make sure Babe's kept safe, and if some shit went down in Miami he'll update my men and put his soldiers on the hunt. A _Reyes_ who recognized Scrog provided my first clue in finding my daughter.

I open my wallet and pass one of my pictures of Steph to him. He looks at me, eyebrow raised.

"Tigresa," I tell him. At that, his eyes widen and he nods. El Tigre is my old handle. "She's in charge. She may stop in. I've told her nothing."

He nods. "Mine knows." He produces a picture. The woman is fine, but no woman can hold a candle to my Babe. He passes the picture back, we throw deuces and I leave.

So that wasn't a bad intel trip. There's a major gang fight coming to Atlanta, and the perpetrators have already fled to North Carolina, probably Charlotte, where they've entered witness protection. So, I need to find out who is in protective custody and who put them there.

I'll send Hector on a fact-finding mission. This is the kind of intel the feds could never get. This is why they pay me.

* * *

**Post-Script**

Bodega: Term in Hispanic neighborhoods to refer to a "party store', 'corner store', 'convenience store', or 'grocery' interchangeably.

Inca: High ranking Latin King

_Jefe_: Spanish for boss

Come with power: Major Gang fight

To do a ghost: Leave town/leave the area

Glass House: Car, usually a four-door, with lots of windows. Refers to the unattended Mercedes. The question "Ours?" translates as: Are we allowed to steal it?

Bus Ticket home: Would you like to die today?

Check in: Go into protective custody.

Throw deuces: Peace sign made sideways after a handshake or fist bump.


	26. Atlanta

**A/N: I've started a Flickr set for pictures I want to share****. You'll find the information to access it on my profile. Also, I have a new poll about my update days. I'll allow you to choose two days (ONLY TWO!).**

**Also, I use the words 'cast' and 'walking boot' interchangeably. At this point, Steph is in a 'walking boot', but sometimes it's just easier to say 'cast'.**

* * *

**Chapter 26: Atlanta**

**Danny's POV**

The CO's trip has been scheduled for a week. The entire main office building has been cleaned and inspected. Each satellite office was given the once over. The CO's office has been completely refreshed and fresh flowers added. Bobby's apartment was given a top to bottom clean, and Ella called to update Rose on the CO's likes, dislikes and needs. An SUV has been set aside for her use and two men have been given 'Bombshell Duty'. I called Hal to find out what Bombshell duty covers, and Jase and Lance are prepared, if nervous. They've memorized the Trenton SOPs in regards to the CO.

We're just awaiting her arrival.

This trip is important in a lot of respects. First, this is the first time the Atlanta men will meet the new CO, and she is here to do a branch review. That's the most important objective of this trip. We are the first office to get her attention, and the eyes of the entire company will be on us to determine what she looks for, what she overlooks, where we fail, and where we succeed.

I'm determined we will have more successes than failures.

Second, this is the first time the Atlanta network team will meet their boss and the company head of Electronics. They have completely cleaned out the rat's nest we used to call the 'Server Room' in advance of his visit. They've attended the Microsoft SharePoint training classes, so this week will be devoted to getting the servers and environments setup for this new project. I don't understand half of what they're saying, but Nate is thrilled and can't wait to get started.

Third, it's a chance for my office to get to know the new boss. The reporting structure was sent to each XO two weeks ago for dissemination to the staff. Each man in the Atlanta office now knows the new reporting structure and understands that this woman visiting today is his true boss. She is going to be in charge of the day-to-day operation of this company. He needs to impress her.

I've had to stop the men from buying her flowers every day. They're determined that she enjoy every moment of her trip here.

My Bonds Enforcement department is the most excited of all. Steph's agreed to hold a workshop here for two days, and the men who attended in Trenton have been hyping it up to their colleagues. In the month since her workshop, we've gotten the capture rate up to 92%. We only have three big fish still outstanding, and we're hoping she'll work with us to get through those. We're now second in the company, behind Trenton.

Mark is pissed beyond measure, but he didn't take that workshop seriously. I did and, as an added bonus, Manny gave me tips on how to restructure my Bonds Enforcement department to make them more efficient. It was great stuff that I immediately put into practice, and I'm reaping the benefits. Atlanta's gone from last to second. Bonuses are guaranteed this year. My men are prepared to listen to anything she says.

The Suburban containing the new CO arrives and we see Jase, Ram, and Hector exit first. The sight of their boss has silenced the network guys; in their excitement, they forgot that **their** boss is one of the most feared men in the company. Three of my guys exit to assist with the bags. A wheelchair is set up and the new CO is lifted from the SUV into it. She immediately begins pumping her way to the building. Finally, another woman exits the SUV. This must be the trainer, Sarah.

Ms. Plum looks spectacular. She's dressed in what is clearly an expensive skirt suit and some great pumps. Those are pumps, right?

Rose whistles. "Jimmy Choos. Alright then, Miss Thang."

I have no idea what that means. I open the door and am immediately surprised to find my arms full of my boss. I return the hug. Lord, she's soft in all the right places. Cindy is getting a desperate man tonight.

"Danny! It's great to see you. How are you?"

I grin. She's so happy it's hard not to love her. "I'm great, Steph! Welcome to RangeMan Atlanta. The men can't wait to meet you, but I'd like to introduce Rose Taylor, our housekeeper. She'll be acting as your personal assistant for the week."

Steph waves at Rose and attempts to raise her eyebrows at me. I have to remember not to laugh. The Trenton guys have joined us and my guys have all the luggage.

"Personal assistant? I've never had a personal assistant. Do I need one?" She looks bewildered by the thought.

"Well, since it's your first visit and you're in a wheelchair, I thought you might need some assistance. Rose will work with Hector and my guys on your security detail so you don't have to be stuck in the building. I'm sure you'll want to get out and see the city and go shopping, especially since Hector is going to be tied up in the server room and in meetings."

Throughout this little speech I've been pushing Steph across the building to the elevators. She's craning her neck in every direction to see everything, and the men are just as eager to get a look at her; Chase came back from Trenton half in love. Now would be a great time for a burglary; I'll bet none of my men are paying attention to their screens. "I'll give you the grand tour later, but do you need a few minutes to relax and maybe change? Ella tells me you aren't a fan of flying so I thought you might like a moment."

I hear a loud exhale and Steph leans back in the chair and smiles. "Danny, that would be great. Thank you. I **hate** flying." Rose passes her a bottle of water which Steph thanks her for then completely drains.

At this point, we're all in the elevators, me, Rose, Steph, Hector, Ram and Sarah. We stop on the 9th floor to allow Ram, Hector, and Sarah to get their luggage stored in their apartments. Ram and Hector rejoin us while Sarah goes in search of the gym. We ascend to 10, Bobby's apartment, and I fob us inside. Steph has a lot of luggage so I switch places with Rose to assist.

Bobby's apartment is a study in quiet comfortable elegance. I occasionally go up there to sit in peace and quiet. Downtown Atlanta is a loud, rough area, and the 10th floor is an oasis. I can see Steph is amazed.

"Wow. This place is . . ." Steph is at a loss for words.

"Gorgeous," Ram finishes, looking around in surprise. "I didn't think anyone could top the boss's apartment for style and class, but this is . . . shit . . . I don't even know what to say."

Rose smiles. She's cleaned and polished and scrubbed her fingers to the bone to make Bobby's apartment a showcase for Steph. There are little feminine touches everywhere. I hide a smile. I wonder what Bobby will think of it the next time he drops in.

"Mr. Brown once said that he saw enough darkness and dirt and blood in the world that when he came home he wanted to be surrounded by light and warmth and comfort. Light and comfort above all." Rose smiles. Steph is still exploring everything. "He wanted you to be comfortable in his home so he gave me permission to do whatever I needed to make you comfortable. If there are any changes you'd like to make here, just let me know. I've added all your normal toiletries and amenities in the bath and bedrooms."

"No, no changes. This is wonderful." Steph is out of the wheelchair and carefully maneuvering around Bobby's apartment. I see Rose making little notes. I raise an eyebrow and she shows me her notepad. It's reminders to get some non-slip rug grips and to move certain pieces of decor to give Steph more walking space since she has a new cast, although she's not wearing it right now.

My staff is determined to impress.

* * *

An hour later Conference 1 is filled to capacity and all satellite offices are on the video call. I noticed a rogue transmission and, after Hector investigated, the feed to Boston was cut. Nosy fucker; he'll learn all he needs to know when she visits his office. I make a note to determine who forwarded Mark the connection information.

The men are silent in front of me. I'm merely waiting for Hector to return. Steph, Ram, Chase, and Adam are all in the front with me, staring back at the men. Well, the men are staring; Steph is smiling nervously. She's changed into black SWAT and pink flats. The non-regulation footwear makes the men smile. Finally, Hector returns, a hard look on his face. I'm glad this isn't my fault. He passes me a note: _He identificado la fuga. Yo me ocuparé de él. _(I've identified the leak. I'll take care of it.) Well, no worries there; that person will never leak again. I nod.

"Gentlemen," and every man comes to attention, "we are here to welcome the CO of RangeMan, LLC to the Atlanta Office. Let me introduce to you Ms. Stephanie Plum." Steph waves to the men from her wheelchair and they clap politely, surprising us all. "Also with her is Hector Gutierrez, who is the head of Electronics and Communications for RangeMan, LLC." Hector nods just slightly. "Finally, we have Ramsay Sinclair, the External Liaison from RangeMan Trenton. They will be here with us over the next two weeks to accomplish various objectives for the company. They are to be given every assistance and courtesy of this office. I intend that this first trip of the CO's is the standard that is set and that none are able to surpass it."

At that, the men cheer. They're onboard with this plan, and I see Steph grin out of the corner of my eye. I meant what I said, though. I want her to compare her other trips to this trip and feel we were the best. I turn to Steph. "CO, a few words?"

I can see I've put her on the spot, but I hand her the microphone anyway.

"Thank you for the introduction, Danny. I'm excited to be here and I'm looking forward to meeting and getting to know all of you. When Danny invited me he said he wanted to show me some down-home Southern hospitality and friendliness, was that it?"

I nod and my men cheer. Yeah, we can do friendly.

Steph grins. "Well, so far I can see the friendliness, and I'm looking forward to my visit here. Please don't go out of your way to change your routine. I want to see everything working just as it normally does. I am glad to be here and thank you."

Again the men clap and cheer. I dismiss them and Steph is immediately besieged by my Apprehensions team, led by Marcus. He wasn't able to attend the Trenton meeting and has been kicking himself ever since.

"Ms. Plum—" he begins.

"Stephanie, please."

Marcus smiles. It's hard for him to call people by their given names because that wasn't the way he was raised. "Ms. Plum, Stephanie, it's a pleasure to have you here. My team has been telling me wonderful things about you, and I'm sorry I missed your first session in Trenton. I look forward to watching you do your magic in person."

Steph laughs. "I've never thought of what I do as magic, but I'm ready to dig in. I understand you only have three really big captures remaining?" Marcus grins and nods. "Well, Manny and Zip, the new head of Apprehensions in Trenton, don't want me to share too much with you. Your 92% capture rate this month is making them nervous."

My men laugh and I grin. Good. Atlanta has been something of a company joke when it comes to captures, and I'm determined to turn that around. If Trenton is nervous then we've really improved.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

I've settled back in Bobby's apartment for a breather before lunch. Danny's promised to take us someplace good and I can't wait.

Rose has gone all out setting this place up for me. I find the Bvlgari shower gel in the shower with my hair products, including the stuff I usually buy from Mr. Alexander. There's fruit in the kitchen, my favorite water (yeah, I have a favorite water now) in the fridge, and small chocolates in the bedroom. I brought my laptop with me, but I see another laptop, printer, and fax machine set up and ready to use. I get the feeling that Bobby does not allow work to invade this space.

I walk around Bobby's apartment slowly and cautiously. This place is gorgeous, breathtaking, a real showplace. We're in the middle of downtown, only ten floors up, and yet it's almost silent in here. Bobby's home is as warm and comfortable as he is and, unlike Ranger's home, you can occasionally find a personal knick knack or two. I've spotted pics of Bobby with his parents, with his family (I'm thinking Chase must be a cousin), and standing outside a different house. I spotted one pic that looks like the guys ten years ago. They're all sweaty and dirty but grinning for the camera, and I realize that I'm staring at Ranger in the picture for at least five minutes before I put it back down.

It's been two months since Ranger left and I've thought about him every day. I've also had time to think about what Mary Lou said, and I accept that she's right but I think she's being unfair too. Ranger has never given me the smallest reason to believe that there could ever be anything between us except casual sex, and I loved him too much to be content with that. If he wanted there to be more between us he could have said something, given me some reason to believe that he might change his mind. I'm thinking it's unfair that he waits until he won't be around for an entire year to tell me that he's willing to talk about it when he returns.

Now I'm here, running his company, eating bark and twigs (although I get the feeling Ella's modified the bark and twigs for me) and working out with the exercise Nazi in order to make him happy. Just my luck: he's not here to see it. I need to start thinking about the things I'm going to ask him for. I'm not making all these changes without him making some.

Is it the lack of meatball subs giving me courage?

In any case, Bobby's apartment is breathtaking, and I'm looking forward to being here for two weeks, but I can already tell that I'm going to be as lonely and isolated as I was in Trenton. At least in Trenton I could get out on the weekends with Mary Lou, Connie and Lula, but it was lonely during the week. Nothing but the guys and work and exercise, and that might be fine for Ranger but not me. I'm not sure what to do with a 'personal assistant,' but the moment Danny said I had one I immediately thought 'shopping'. I hope Rose knows all the best places to go.

My itinerary for this trip is tight. I'm visiting two satellite offices each day and spending time in the main office for an entire week. Hector has his meetings and he is determined that the environment will be set up and ready for me to review before we leave. He's not happy that it means that he has to trust Danny's guys with my security, so I'm sure Danny is nervous about making sure I'm safe.

I mean, unless trips to the mall have somehow become dangerous.

I move back to the bedroom and get dressed. The new cast is actually a walking boot, which allows me to slip into the shower with ease, but I have to be careful moving. Hector demanded, politely, that I put it back on for my leg's sake. There aren't any non-slip rugs. Finally, I'm dressed and ready for this trip to lunch. I've been awake for seven hours already and I'm tired. The only positive: no exercise this morning. We had to make the plane.

I slip back into the wheelchair and head back down to the 5th floor. It's abuzz with activity. I reviewed the paperwork last week to prepare and I know that commercial and residential monitoring is huge here. The Apprehensions group is down on the 3rd floor and they share space with the Client Services group. Jase is standing next to the elevators and at the sight of me he comes to attention. _Sigh_. I have to convince these guys I'm not Ranger, but in the meantime I've learned the correct commands.

"Stand down." He immediately relaxes. "Can you tell me where Danny is?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's in his office, down the hall. Want me to escort you there? I can also show you where Leadership Core, Lt. Brown, and the CO normally work when they're here." Jase is serious and looks nervous.

"On one condition," I reply.

"Yes, ma'am?" Jase says, cautiously.

"Please stop calling me ma'am! I hate it. It makes me feel 30 years older."

Jase grins, the first relaxed look I've seen on his face since he picked us up at the airport. "I'll try, Ms. Plum, but I warn you, this is the South. Ma'am comes out of everyone's mouth as easily as hello , darlin', and sumabitch."

Which of these does not belong? I laugh, which causes men across the floor to look up in surprise. Danny appears, looking confused.

"Steph?"

"Sumabitch," I choke out, still laughing.

* * *

We head to the garage and bypass the company SUVs in favor of Danny's truck, a massive F-150 with the chrome grill and all the bling. Ram grins; this is his kind of truck. We pile in, and Danny disables the monitoring and turns to us.

"I know you're working to make RangeMan standards, Steph, but this is your first meal on your first visit. I'll be damned if you end up chewing lettuce leaves. Chase, Adam, Nate and Marcus are joining us later, but we don't want the men to know where we are taking you."

Now I'm intrigued and grateful. Clearly, this isn't a bark and twigs meal. I think about what Bobby said about being tested and realize that yet again, Danny is someone to be trusted. He's maintaining my authority in front of the men while still making me happy.

"Danny, you are rapidly moving up the ladder as a man to be admired," Ram laughs. "How often do you do this?"

"I have a once a month cheat. Your trip just happens to fall during the right time, so I'm taking my cheat day today."

Danny took us to the Busy Bee, a favorite of the staff, and the moment we walk inside I understand. The place is devoted to old-fashioned Southern soul food, and I'm in heaven. One meatloaf plate later, I push back from the table and pat my stomach in happiness. Mom's can't compete with that. Every man at the table is twitching.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Shorty's," Ram replies.

I blush. Well, it was worth every moan. I haven't had anything that wonderful in weeks.

The waitress walks over. "Honey, if we hadda taped you, we could play that for money. Here." She hands me a slice of Red Velvet cake. "On the house. Danny, next time you intend to bring her, let us know. Big Daddy's in the back hoppin' mad we didn't get her on tape!"

The men laugh. Again, worth every moan and so is this cake. Three minutes later, the cake is demolished and I'm sleepy. The men look astonished and a little frightened.

"Steph, honey, do you realize you just **inhaled** that cake?" Chase asks, shifting in his seat.

"Yes," I moan sadly. I'd pay for another piece. Hector gets up from the table and returns moments later with half a cake. He smiles. I sit up, hopeful. My partner would be brave enough to slip me cake. This trip is looking up.


	27. Past and Present Collide

**A/N: Check the Postscript for terminology. There's not much.**

* * *

**Chapter 27: Past and Present Collide**

**Hector's POV (All Conversations in Spanish)**

There's a reason I left the Kings. I was sick of the bullshit. I was sick of looking over my shoulder, hoping I didn't get caught by feds or stray bullets. I believed in the ideals the gang was originally founded on, of protection, self-determination, and pride in culture, but I was never a drug pusher, pimp, or murderer. I'm Catholic —lapsed, but still, I have limits.

It wasn't until I met Ranger that I realized that you could leave and still have a life. I realized that if I intended to live past 30, I needed to get out while the getting was good. I am a premier-level hacker, and I didn't need the Kings to do that.

I got out and I've never regretted it. I've never looked back. If anything, my determination to stay alive has given me an even more fearsome reputation than the one I had while in the gang.

So when Ranger detailed his current mission, I had no problems agreeing to help. Because of my hacking, I maintain contacts up and down the East Coast. I know someone everywhere. This was merely payback for all the years of support and belief in me. For moving my Mom and sisters out of harm's way when I told him I was getting out. For giving me a job and a way to take care of them that restored their pride in me. Ranger is my true brother, and I will go to bat for him. I will take bullets.

Follow up on intel? No problem.

I got a message Saturday, encrypted. My first assignment. _Attempt to come with power. A-town. Boys ghosted to NC and checked in. ASAP._

OK. This is simple and great timing. I called Danny, explained that I would need a car to go follow through for Ranger. I had everything else.

Danny promised that everything would be ready for my arrival. If I needed something he forgot, just say the word.

* * *

The Explorer is dark green, like the one in Trenton, 10 years old and looks decrepit if you aren't looking closely. If you know what to look for you see the armor cladding, the non-shred tires, and the bulletproof glass. There's plenty of firepower under the seats. Danny came through. He asked no questions. The keys were in the apartment when I arrived, and there was a note.

_The only tracking for this vehicle has been switched to my phone._

Danny did not fail. He's long been the only XO I like and one of the biggest reasons I pressured Ranger to move the servers to Atlanta. He's proving himself now.

This is the first time in a long time I've been this suited up. Three guns, five knives (I prefer knives), Kevlar and personal tracking devices. The gloves and hat are in my pockets. I'm not taking chances. _Angelita_ is stubborn and still needs protection of her own. She might be asleep right now, but tomorrow is always another day.

It's after 0200 and the trip to Doraville is quiet. I know who I'm looking for and I'm looking forward to it. I've needed to deliver some payback for a while. I finally pull up outside a house three blocks away from the target and walk around quietly, surveying the neighborhood. It's amazing what you can find in public records. Mauricio thinks no one knows about this house. His mistake. I've buried every RangeMan's paper trail so deep you can never find any of us. I'm amused every time the girls at the Bonds Office try to find Ranger.

I check for alarm systems and find one, linked to a competitor. No problem; 15 minutes later, he's defenseless and his alarm company is no wiser. No other protections on this house. Sitting duck.

I open the windows and climb inside. I tiptoe down the hallways and survey the house. Inside one bedroom I find piles of money, already counted, clipped, and in duffle bags. I grin. Mine now, and I don't have to deliver the payback personally. I carry the duffles back to the window and leave them there. I'll pick them up on the way out.

Further exploration of the house finds the target passed out on the couch in a family room. Good. Don't have to move him away from innocents. I don't find anyone else in the entire house. I quickly survey Mauricio. No phones, no weapons in sight. I check underneath sofas, find two assault rifles and move them well out of the way. No knives. One .22 on his ankle; I remove it from the holster. That causes him to shift slightly, but I don't stop. I'm not taking bullets tonight.

Finally, I'm ready. I flip him off the couch, put my knee in his back, and handcuff him. He's trussed up before he's even awake.

"What the fuck! Look, I don't know who the fuck you are but you ain't gon like how this shit goes down—"

Blah blah blah.

"Hello Mauricio. Long time, no see_._" I love the sound of silence. Now he knows who has him, and I'm sure he's trying to figure out which offense I'm going to get him over. Easy; this shit's business, but the offense is very personal.

"Hector, man, shit, you, you . . . Imma catch up, I promise, man, I just, I mean . . . "

He's in tears. No one has ever lived through an encounter with me, but he will. I'm already earmarked for some time in Hell; I won't add his body to my count. Besides, I've got the duffel bags.

"I will allow you to live if you give me the information I need. I don't need you dead, but it won't make a difference to me. Understand?"

He nods rapidly. I want to laugh at him but I can't.

"Who ghosted?"

Silence. He doesn't want to rat to me since I divorced, but his life is on the line. Quick tap upside his head reminds him of his precarious position.

"Reynaldo, man, that shit took everyone by surprise. We didn't even see it coming," he babbles.

What the hell? Since when do Incas sell out? See, that's why I'm out. "Who was he working with?"

"Man I don't know, I don't—"

I cock the gun next to his temple. "Don't play with me. I saw your digital footprint all over that intrusion."

All of a sudden his memory has improved. "Mason. A feeb named Mason. His partner is Jackson. They're in North Carolina, Charlotte or a suburb. A squad's been dispatched."

"Who's the blow man?"

"I dunno, and that's no lie, Hector. We left that on the NC boys. We got enough trouble trying to cover our tracks and clean up before the feds are on our ass."

Too late, bro. They'll be on everyone else in four hours and your non-arrest is going to look suspicious as hell. "Who was Rey working with?"

"_Treces_. _Treces_ and Pedro." Fuck. An Inca and a don? Shit just ain't the same.

"I know that. Which _Treces_?"

"We never met 'em. You'll need to get his phone records. I couldn't manage it. Verizon is a bitch to hack."

That's true, but it can be done. Thanks for the clue, Mauricio. "How are you involved?"

"I was supposed to hold the cash. Keep everything ready for the ghost, only that fucker ghosted and told no one. Pedro was just found tits up in Morrow yesterday. I'm moving in the morning. Hector, man, please, please don't. I wanna live. Please." He's crying hard now.

See, this is why I'd never trust Mauricio with my life. Jesús, what an idiot. This fucker was set up and doesn't even realize it. He can't even lie well. He said he was surprised by Rey's defection, but he was a part of it. I put the gun away and flip him over. Now that he can see me, I pull the knives.

He pisses himself.

"You realize that you're very behind, right? That shit's not cool. I told you when you got involved to never fuck up. You did."

"Man, Hector, I promise I'll catch up. I just gotta stay alive. I know I'm not right, that I haven't been right, that I need to make things right with her—"

"You've been fucking up for 2½ years. You want me to believe you now? You made these promises before. I promised you when you saw me you wouldn't like it. Now I'm guaranteeing it, but I'm a man of my word. I don't need you dead, and when I walk out the door you'll still be alive. For how long is not my concern."

I punch him in the chin like Ranger taught me, enough to make him pass out, but not enough to kill. I take my knife and carve a reminder of my visit in his skin. I'm done and he'll never forget again. I got what Ranger needed and delivered some personal payback. Life is good.

I remove all bindings, shove the assault rifles back into place, and basically put the house back to rights. I pick up the duffle bags and exit. I shove the duffle bags into the Explorer and reset the house's security system. No hint I was ever there.

I drive to Stone Mountain, where my cousin Nikki lives with her son, Hector Manuel. I'm close to and very proud of my little namesake, and I make sure to call at least once a week. He is my son and I love him. Nikki has the funds for anything she might need and for her and Hector Manuel to come visit me at least four times a year. When she got pregnant, I warned her that fucking with _Reyes_ meant she'd always have a connection. This is one of those things I regret most from being in the gang. If not for me, she might never have gone near Mauricio. I warned Mauricio that his child support should never be late, especially after she named the boy after me.

Until now, he's been a huge disappointment to both me and Nikki. I think carving 'Pay your fucking child support' in his chest will encourage him not to disappoint further.

I pull up outside her apartment and knock on the door. Nikki answers, looking angry and irritated until she sees me. Then she's happy, throwing herself into my arms. I hug her close and walk her back inside.

I move to look at my little boy. Everything I have will go to him, and I'm stocking away a substantial nest egg. It's not as if I'll ever have kids. He's beautiful, everything I ever wanted to have myself. I can't believe he's almost three! Time for me to start making trips to Georgia. Perhaps I should consider moving here? My men are based here, and now that I don't have the threat of prison over my head, I can breathe easy. These thoughts consume my mind as I return to the living room.

"Hector, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but really, four AM? Man," Nikki shakes her head and smiles, "I gotta be at work at 8."

"I know. I apologize. I needed to see you. I dropped in on Mauricio. Your back child support is coming soon, but some major shit's about to go down so he's gotta flee. I'll be by with the check before I leave Atlanta."

She blinks then starts to cry. "Cousin, thank you. I'm past due on everything. That'll help."

Now I'm angry at her. "There's no need for that, Nikki. You should have told me or pulled more money from the account. I don't want Hector Manuel to go without."

Nikki pulls herself up to her full height and glares at me. Ooh. I've angered the Momma. "I understand that Hector, but he's still my child. It's my responsibility to meet his needs. Mine and Mauricio's. I can't beg you for help all the time. You already do so much for both of us. I don't ever want—"

At this, I pull Nikki into my arms and hug her. "I know, cousin, I know. You know he's my heir, he will get everything I have. I just want him to have everything he needs now." I grin. "Like a house. A yard with green grass and other children in the neighborhood to play with. The best school district. A _fútbol _team to play on."

I'm poking and tickling her now. This is a long standing disagreement between us. I'm ready to provide it now, to give Hector Manuel the best of everything. Nikki has her pride; she's not moving until **she** can afford it. I respect that. I'm just impatient. Hector Manuel should not be forced to go without for any reason when his uncle will see to all his needs.

"And now that Mauricio has seen fit to provide for his son it should ease your burdens," I add, leaving her to hiccup thorough her laughs.

The mention of her spineless ex-boyfriend sobers her. "Hector, don't lie to me. Is Mauricio still alive?" She looks scared.

"He is, for the moment, but you need to watch your back. He's the bag man and the others are either dead or ghost. They'll be looking for him, and they'll come to you. That's why I'm holding off on getting you the check. If they check your apartment or accounts I don't want you looking suspicious."

"So you already have the money?" she asks.

"Downstairs in the truck. I have no idea how much. Gotta count it and get it deposited, but you'll get it. Tap the account I gave you to pay your bills and I'll get you his money before I leave. I'll put word out that you should be left alone. Until I'm sure that you will be left alone, make sure you have your trackers with you at all times. Make sure Hector Manuel wears his bracelet."

She relaxes and nods. Nikki knows that my reputation will prevent most harm from coming to her.

"Anyway, I don't want to keep you up all night. Just want to know if I can drop in while I'm here to see him, play with him, maybe take you two out to dinner? I'll be here for two weeks so perhaps I could babysit him this weekend?"

Nikki looks as if I've handed her the world. "Hell yeah, you can have him anytime you want. I need a break and I have exams to study for. Wanna take him now? I hate leaving him in that daycare, and if something major's going down he's safest with you."

I'll investigate his daycare later in the morning. Right now, I can't pack duffle bags fast enough. A server room is not the best place for a little boy so I'll need to modify my plans and stay in the control room.

I don't care. I get my heir for the day, maybe longer. I'll do whatever's necessary. I plant another tracking device on Nikki's car and inside her purse, take Hector Manuel and return to RangeMan Atlanta.

* * *

**A/N: Conversations in English, Spanish where indicated.**

Tiny fingers are poking my eyelids. I open them to find my precious boy in my face, grinning.

"_Tío! Tío, levántate. ¿Puedo ver la televisión?"_ (Uncle! Uncle, wake up. Can I watch TV?) Nikki said he was advanced for almost three. I need to check that his daycare is the best.

I do a quick diaper check and change (Dry. That's my big man!) and sit him in front of the TV while I make a quick breakfast. Ranger sent a message that he got my info and will let me know if he needs anything else. I also sent the info to Manny, who is following up on a different angle. 0800 sees us in the server room, shocked faces all around.

"_Este es mi sobrino. Su nombre es Hector Manuel y él estará en la oficina y fuera de mí. Usted tiene algún problema con él, ven a buscarme. Tiene casi tres años y es un niño muy bueno." (_This is my nephew. His name is Hector Manuel and he will be in and out the office with me. You have any problems with him, come find me. He's nearly three and is a very good boy.)

Every man nods and we set out to accomplish the day's goal. By noon we are ahead of schedule. Hector Manuel has been content to watch his cartoons, eat his snacks, and take his nap, but at noon he gets antsy. He's not the only one. Time to check on _Angelita_.

We go to 5 and head to the CO's office. Hector Manuel slips from my grasp and runs directly at the target. _Angelita_ is surprised to find a little boy climbing into her lap.

"Er . . . hello? Who are you?" she says, confused.

"Hi! I'm Hector. Who are you? You're pretty," Hector Manuel replies, reaching for a pen. I hide a laugh and pretend I don't understand this conversation. Ram quickly translates for me, looking as confused as everyone else.

"I'm Stephanie. Is Hector your . . . " _Angelita _trails off. It's clear I'm not his father. My orientation prevents that, and Hector Manuel is a ringer for Mauricio.

"_Tío_ Hector?" Hector Manuel points to me. "_Tío_ Hector is my _tío."_ This causes everyone nearby to laugh. Ram translates for _Angelita _and turns to me.

"_Er, Tío Héctor, ¿quieres decirnos qué pasa aquí? ¿Quién es este hombre poco atractivo?"_ (Er, Uncle Hector, wanna tell us what's up here? Who's this handsome little man?) Ram asks, pulling Hector Manuel into his lap and pushing a piece of paper in front of him.

Ah. I need to buy some coloring books and crayons. He repeats the question in English for Steph.

I smile. "_Este es mi corazón, mi sobrino Héctor Manuel. Él vive en Atlanta y llego al verlo por primera vez. Haciendo un poco de de niñera, si el CO no le importa. Los dos estamos inquietos por algo de comer. ¿Cuál es el plan?_" (This is my heart, my nephew Hector Manuel. He lives here in Atlanta, and I get to see him for once. Doing a little babysitting, if the CO doesn't mind. We're both antsy for some lunch. What's the plan?)

Ella would be proud. She thought _Angelita_ needed to spend some time around well-behaved children who would not scare her. Moreover, it would be nice for her to see a man involved with a child, to give her an idea of how Ranger might act with a child. Problem was neither of us knew any children in Trenton close to _Angelita_ that she would not have already met. Hector Manuel is fulfilling a lot of goals right now.

This is a brilliant move. I can see that the idea has been planted. _Angelita_ has not taken her eyes off Hector Manuel yet. I hadn't thought about the fact that Hector Manuel looks like what a child between her and Ranger might look like. He's perfect, a gorgeous café con leche color with light brown eyes and curly black hair. He's coloring the piece of paper and chatting with her. It's child Spanglish, hard for even me to understand unless I'm entirely focused on him, so I'm letting it wash over me. What I'm picking up is he's hungry, he loves his uncle, he loves his mommy, he thinks _Angelita's_ pretty, he wants a dog, etc. Basic three year old thoughts.

Danny and Chase are debating restaurants. This time they have to choose something healthy because they'll make their first satellite office visit after lunch, so the trackers will be on. Finally, the restaurant is decided. We take two separate cars because I need a child seat.

_Angelita_ is in my car and I've disabled audio monitoring.

"I didn't know you had any relatives around here, Hector. Have you made plans to go see them?"

"Nikki is the only person I want to see and I saw her early this morning. We're playing the plans by ear. I want to give her some time to rest and study for her exams without Hector Manuel, and I want some alone time to play with him."

"What's she studying?"

I grin. "Computer Information Systems at Georgia State. Very highly ranked program and I want her to be a manager, not a programmer. I taught her to program years ago. I want her to keep going and get her MBA while she's in an academic mindset, but she's pushing back on that. She wants to get out into the workplace and earn money for her and my son."

_Angelita_ is looking in the back of the car at Hector Manuel. Nice to see car trips still put him to sleep. He's looking very drowsy right now.

"I never imagined you to be close to any children, _Tío_ Hector," she grins. "He's a handsome little boy. Every child I've seen at that age is a screamer."

I smile. "He's in that sweet zone right now. Almost out of the terrible twos, old enough to walk, talk, and express his needs. That's why I'm so happy to spend some time with him over the next two weeks. Nikki is hoping time with me, around a man, will finish off his potty training. I have no idea how to do that, so I need to look it up." I'm slipping the occasional Spanish word into the conversation to see if she can still follow.

_Angelita_ grimaces. "More miss than hit, I know that."

Good. It's becoming natural to hear Spanish. I smile. "Nikki's got him in the trainers and she says that he knows when he needs to go and is pretty good about telling you he has to go potty. Just trying to reinforce it now and prevent accidents. I've been letting him watch me go so he gets the idea."

_Angelita_ laughs. "You're really involved. It's sweet."

"Well, he's it for me. I was there when he took his first breath. He'll always be my little man."

Lunch is good. I'm surprised to see _Angelita_ take point with Hector Manuel, cutting up his chicken fingers and wiping his mouth. He has very good table manners. She and Ram seem captivated by him, which makes me very proud. Danny pulls out pictures of his boys and we admire them. He has two boys, six and eight. It's a reminder of why we do the jobs we do.

It's for the little boys and little girls we all love. That's why we put ourselves in danger. So they don't have to.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

I'm nervous about this first satellite trip. I spent the morning with Danny, reviewing the estimations for his branch, and I now understand Chase's slip. The reserves in Atlanta were in bad shape, mostly due to the bad capture rate. Atlanta wasn't operating at the wire like Trenton, but having all those outstanding bonds was wreaking havoc on the budget.

I decided to hold another skip tracing workshop for their group. That's what will help this branch the most.

Since they only have three big bonds outstanding, the budget is in much better shape and they've got everything straight again. Danny's finance degree has really been helping him out in keeping this branch afloat, but I still think that Atlanta needs to be broken up. Charlotte is big enough for its own branch and I'm keeping notes on what I see.

Hector and Ram have their own instincts that I'm taking advantage of. So far, they report that everything they see appears to be above board. Danny doesn't have the hyper-secretive nature of the other XOs. Ask him a question and he'll answer, no attempt at a run around. Same with his men; they appear to be honest and hard-working and prepared to answer any questions they're asked.

Ram reports that I'll want to take a closer look at the Hospitality contracts, just to ensure that Atlanta can handle it. That's Danny's only issue; because he's wanted into that arena for so long, he's tempted to go after contracts that are bigger than he can really handle. It's a symptom of the reserves issue; he wanted those big contracts to stabilize the havoc the outstanding bonds were playing with his budget. Part of my review will be for him to stick to contracts at $500,000 or less and let the reputation build before going after the big fish.

Today's satellite office trips are west, towards Birmingham. Danny wants to show me these offices first because he'd like to drop them and redeploy those men east, towards Charlotte. They rarely have anyone run in this direction and don't have many bonds in Birmingham. A quick look at everything else he has going on shows a really well run office, if big. Given how long it took us to get to the restaurant for lunch I now understand the need for satellite offices. They're not optional; they're completely mandatory.

Today's surprise was little Hector Manuel. The Spanish lessons with Hector have been paying off. I understood bits of the Spanish conversations, even before Ram translated. I can barely understand Hector Manuel, but that's because he mixes Spanish and English within his sentences naturally. I can see even Hector has trouble following him sometimes.

Hector Manuel is a beautiful little boy. The few times I've allowed myself to imagine what a child with Ranger might look like have been remarkably similar to what Hector Manuel actually looks like. I'm fascinated by him and found myself willing to help feed him during lunch.

Even now, I can't help but look at him every so often. Hector isn't watching me, per se, but I can see him looking at me out the side of his eyes and smiling. He's very proud of his nephew. I know it's surprising, but Hector Manuel is a very well behaved child. First one I've seen.

Even more surprising is Hector's obvious love and devotion to him. He refers to and treats Hector Manuel as if he were his actual son. I can't help but wonder if Carlos . . . nope, not going there.

Dangerous thoughts. Rings still make me nervous and the birth control held, thank God.

We reach Anniston, AL and climb out. I decide to ditch the wheelchair this time and pull the crutches. I'll use them if I really need them. We walk in and Danny introduces everyone. The branch guys are polite and smiling and I'm just beginning my review when it happens.

Hector Manuel has had enough.

I watch as he completely breaks down and has a tantrum in the office. He's crying, flailing his arms and legs. This is what I'm accustomed to, and I brace myself for at least 30 minutes of crying, pleading, begging and shouting by Hector to calm the child.

Hector is not rattled. He merely sits on the floor with him and rubs his back. Within five minutes, Hector Manuel is sitting up, hiccupping and sucking his thumb. Hector makes a call to someone and, at the end of the call, picks Hector Manuel up and rubs his back. The child is asleep in minutes.

"_Lo siento. Me olvidé de la siesta. Por favor, continúe._" (Sorry. I forgot about nap time. Please continue.) Ram translates the sentence, but I'd gotten most of it. The word _forgot_ is new.

I'm stunned. I've never seen that. Never. I've seen veteran mothers break down crying in grocery stores trying to stop a child tantrum. Hector did it in 10 minutes.

The branch review continues but I continue to watch Hector Manuel. He's completely out. I turn to Ram, ask him to take my crutches and go grab the wheelchair from the SUV. He returns with the wheelchair and I sit and motion for Hector Manuel. I know Hector wanted to check some things and I don't mind holding Hector Manuel. He's sound asleep.

The men in this satellite office remark that it's quiet most of the time. They have a few contracts for monitoring but otherwise, they spend their time playing Solitaire. They wouldn't mind transferring back east. I turn to Danny.

"Any place around here for a quiet moment?"

"Sure Steph." He wheels me into a quiet office, where I write some notes. I'll sign off on Danny's plan to move these men back east as soon as he picks up enough contracts to offset what we'll lose dropping the monitoring contracts.

Hector Manuel shifts in my arms, and I'm completely captivated by him. Sweet, well-behaved, and beautiful. Hector returns but I motion that I'll keep him to give him time to look around on his own. For some reason, I don't mind holding this little boy. My clock's not ticking, but he's the first child I've seen that hasn't completely scared me.

Besides, I can always pass him right back to his uncle if he starts screaming.

* * *

**Post Script**

Ghost: to disappear, flee the area

Blow man: hit man

_Treces_: Spanish for 13, a reference to MS-13

Don: number two in the gang

Tits up: dead

Divorced: left the gang

Bag Man: Someone who transports goods or money between to people in a criminal activity


	28. The XO Hotline

**Chapter 28: The XO hotline**

**Danny's POV**

So far, Steph's visit has gone extremely well. We've been to half the satellite offices and she's agreed with my plans for each one. I've been able to show improvement in my budgets and forecasting, and we finally have the reserves issues straight. We got on a conference call with Bobby, who was pleased with all the progress we've made here. Man, talk about relief; I hated disappointing Bobby. Having her here, in front, allowed me to land four more Hospitality contracts. She's charmed just about everyone who has met her.

It's official. My office loves the CO. Forget Trenton; we'll take her any day.

Hector informed Steph that the men here have the SharePoint environment set up and ready for deployment ahead of schedule. Because he's been spending so much time with his nephew, he left a lot of the deployment to the men and just oversaw their efforts. They were determined not to fail in front of their boss or the CO, so they pushed themselves to exceed expectations. Hector is careful to keep his blank face in front of them, but in front of me and Steph he's free to praise them for their efforts and efficiency. Nate is nervous, and I want to reassure him that his boss thinks well of him but Hector is careful to tell me not to do that. He wants to see them under pressure.

Two nights later, it's clear why.

I get a panicked call from Nate at 0300. Someone is launching multiple attacks at our server farm, pushing and probing our vulnerabilities, trying to take the company down.

Clearly, this is what Hector had planned.

I ask Nate if he had a plan for this and, if so, deploy it. They follow their plan and by 0900 the attacks are over. Hector shows up in the server room, amused. The men performed well after they stopped panicking. Hector showed them their vulnerabilities and where he was able to penetrate. The men are astonished to learn that their boss is a notorious hacker. He tells them the next project of the Electronics group will be acquiring some of his skills.

For Electronics and Communications, this trip is beyond all their expectations.

Right now, it's Friday evening and Hector has plans. Hector Manuel is back with his mother for the night and Hector has asked me to find a dinner and dancing club or restaurant in Atlanta. Steph's looking lonely, so her partner has decided that she needs a night out on the town and some fun. I called in a reservation to a salsa club and asked Cindy to round up some single girlfriends for a night out. That was easy and the men here are happy to baby-sit for us. That's one of the best parts about being a RangeMan: We take care of our own. Cindy's never had to worry about finding babysitters. The men are always happy to spend time with each other's children; you just gotta remind them to put the weaponry out of reach.

I'm in my Explorer with Cindy, headed back toward RangeMan. Cindy's been twisting my ear all day about the CO. I tried describing Steph but I finally gave up and said she'd have to form her own opinion. I like my new boss and I hope she does too.

We pull up and Hector opens Steph's door. Steph climbs in and I make the introductions. Steph has on a short, tight blue dress and blue flats. She's left the walking boot off, but we've made her promise no vigorous dancing while her leg is still healing. I can see Cindy is shocked that Steph is looking hot. I'm going to pay for that later.

We head to Loca Luna, the salsa club. Steph and Cindy are chatting, looking for common ground but they don't find any until they hit shoes. I'll never get it; with women, shoes can make mortal enemies friends. Cindy introduces her girlfriends to all of us and we hit the restaurant. Ram is looking thrilled with the selection of single women tonight, and he and Adam are trying out lines on the ladies. I'm trying my damnedest not to laugh. I notice that Hector and Steph both seem impatient to hit the dance floor. I can't dance, so I'm hoping to get a pass but Cindy's face says that it won't happen.

Three hours later, Steph's finally exhausted. She and Cindy are getting along great, chatting about shopping, men, food, everything. They make plans to meet up tomorrow morning and hit the malls with Rose and Sarah and anyone Cindy can pull. The ladies with us are in, so I email the office for a list of men who want to go shopping with the CO. The men love her, but there's a limit— no malls. Even double pay draws no volunteers. Ram recommends offering the double time pay, a commendation to Leadership Core, and a three hour limit; it's the standard Trenton bribe. That draws all the volunteers I need. Suckers. Phipps Plaza isn't the same as the Mall of Georgia. Someone is getting the short straw.

Cindy tells me later that it was the first time in a long time that the conversation didn't revolve around preschools, school rankings, soccer matches, Little League and carpools. No one asked her about her decision to be a stay-at-home mom. She wasn't asked nosy questions about my job, and she didn't have to justify our lives. Steph reminded her that she was a woman with her own interests, not just the socially polite book clubs and sorority meetings. It reminded her of what's she's missing, so she's going to start making plans at least once a month to have a 'Mommy day' all on her own.

And since I failed to inform her of how hot my new boss is, I can sleep on my side of the bed for a little while.

* * *

Twenty four hours later, I can't understand how Hector can still be smiling. I've been run ragged, and we only hit two of the malls Cindy recommended. I now regret introducing my wife to my boss; this is a partnership forged in malls and strengthened by shoes and panties. Those women did damage to Victoria's Secret, and I'm thankful my salary is as good as it is. I'm hoping for a reprieve; I saw some of those bra and panty sets and I'd like the opportunity to take them off my wife. With my teeth.

Hector intends to take Steph, his son/nephew and cousin to church in the morning. Hector Manuel is technically a cousin, but he's also Hector's 'son' and heir. Glad he finally cleared that up; I was getting a headache trying to figure it out. Son? Nephew? Cousin? Whatever, he's Hector's. I understand that clearly. I asked Hector if we need to put monitoring on Nikki and Hector Manuel. He was silent then gave me the tracker coordinates for the ones he's already given Nikki. I dispatched Jon to install permanent trackers on her car and gave Hector two more trackers to give Nikki. Hector says nothing, but I can tell my loyalty to the little boy has touched him. Apparently he's been monitoring them from Trenton. No problem; we take care of our own down here, and since Hector Manuel is in our area, he's ours to protect too. We're another layer of eyes on him to ensure his safety.

* * *

I have some time to catch up on basic branch work and check in with the other XOs. First call is Hal. Hal and I are developing a close relationship, as I hoped, and Atlanta and Trenton are pretty much sister branches now.

"How's the CO?" Hal asks.

"Doing well. Shopped till she dropped," I reply. Hal laughs. "How Hector kept smiling I'll never understand."

"Man, mall duty is the most hated chore of Bombshell duty here, especially if Lula is along for the ride. Hector's the only man who can take it."

I'm hoping not to meet Lula. I've heard enough about her, and cops in Georgia don't play with trigger happy ex-hookers. Intel says Lula is no longer with Tank, but Hal's marking it unconfirmed. Their relationship is weird.

"Well, Hector definitely has my respect for his ability to take it. The man never dropped his version of the blank face."

Hal laughs. "That face is scary, isn't it? Well, how do you think you'll do in the review?"

"I think we'll come out of this clean. We cleaned up the bonds issues and the satellite offices are looking good. I got a panic call from Javier yesterday. He's desperate to know what she'll check for, but I'm not telling him and I told my men to keep their mouths closed until the review is over. What are you hearing?"

"That he had another bad quarter. His office is stagnant and he lost three men. He's bleeding there. I need to talk to Ram tonight. Manny is determined that she should hit NYC next. I think Lester had a different plan, but NYC needs the attention more."

"That's what I'm thinking. It'll be good for him. She's good at probing for weaknesses." Another quiet laugh from Hal. "OK, what's so funny?"

"Yeah, Steph's good at following a trail. Every time she follows one in the field, we end up modifying the SOPs." We both laugh at that.

"So, what is Ram checking for while here?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, Hal. I'm not stupid. I have a 'friendly' subversive in my office. He can have access to whatever he wants. Just tell me what he's supposed to be looking for so I can make sure it's available to him."

Hal is quiet for a moment. "He has a few objectives. One is to better understand the bid process. We've never had to do it, so he wants to get it down pat. Plus Steph tasked him and Chase with coming up with documented procedures so he needs to know what he's doing before he starts trying to collect everyone's procedures. Second objective is to understand the communication process for your satellite offices. We've been thinking of sticking some in Philly and Newark, but we want to understand how yours work before we attempt it. You know, structure, reporting, etc. Finally, he's supposed to be running interference between the CO and your office in case anyone tries to subvert her authority. He told me he quit that after day two; you had that under control, not that there was anything to do. That's all."

That's what I thought. "Nothing else?"

"Nope. That's it. He says it's been a stellar trip business wise, but she's lonely. You need to watch that. A lonely bored Steph is a dangerous Steph."

Crap. OK, we gotta find more things for the CO to do at night." My men are desperate to impress her. I'm not sure what to do."

"Well, flowers are a good start."

"Oh believe me, we've got that part down. She's getting flowers every other day and I had to negotiate to keep it at that."

Hal chuckles. "Good job. Look, you got any men in your office with special skills? We're trying to bring her up to RangeMan standards. Make sure Ram gets into the range with her. Consider anything that won't affect her leg."

I think about that for a moment. Jase doesn't have some of the wicked stunt driving skills of NYC and Miami, but it's impossible to tail the man. Her left leg is the one that's hurt, so he should be able to get her out in Atlanta traffic and teach her how it's done. Maxwell has sweet knife skills, second only to Hector. I'll grab some cantaloupe and let him teach the CO what he knows. I start making a list to present. This should enliven her evenings.

Hal and I chat for a while before I disconnect. Time to catch up with Miami.

* * *

"Armando?"

"Yo, Danny! How's it going? You set to be fired?" Armando laughs.

That shit's not funny. I wonder if it's fair to tell the CO that he has a leak in his branch.

"Everything here is fine. The CO is doing her thing. How's sunny Florida?"

"We're good. Ranger was in house for a while, but he left last week. The men can't wait for her trip here."

I'll bet they can't. I make a note to drop a warning in Ram's ear about that office.

"Yeah, well, just understand that her partner is Hector. You know how he is."

Total silence on the phone. I may have screwed up Hector's element of surprise, so I need to make sure I tell him I've told Miami that he has a partner.

"Are you serious? Hector, our Hector, the _Asesino _(The Assassin), is the CO's partner?"

I can almost smell Armando's fear.

"Yup. It seems to be working out. Don't understand how they're communicating, but they have a weird sign language thing going and she definitely listens to his opinions." I'm lying my ass off. I've begun to suspect Hector may understand some English. It's the only way that partnership could work out unless Steph knows Spanish and is hiding it from the men, which I doubt because she lacks a blank face. "Either way, they manage to communicate and Hector doesn't play about his _Angelita_."

Armando is silent. Finally, "My men are still pissed about the SharePoint thing. She's gonna get hit with that when she gets here."

"Not if you're smart. If you're smart, you'll tell them to address their grievances to Hector. She handed off control of the project to him, Manny, and Ram. She just cuts the checks and gives opinions on what they show her." No way I let this asshole try to do an end run around Hector and attack Steph. Besides, this advice saves his ass too. Hector would put Armando's ass in a sling if he allows his men to attack Steph, especially over a project he and Manny control.

"Still, it's another blow. First the servers are moved then they're cut out of a major deployment. It's disrespectful."

"Stuff that shit, Armando. The decision on the servers was Hector and Ranger. Miami is in Hurricane Alley. Who in their right mind locates a server farm there? It's insane! That's why Hector had it moved. The decision on SharePoint was Hector and Manny. The SharePoint thing was Manny's idea so he's in charge of the project, and Hector decided the deployment schedule. Your men are just too afraid to move against Hector. If they have issues they need to address them with the correct person. They need to quit thinking everything is a shot to their pride. Exactly what has the CO done to disrespect Miami? She's barely had any contact with your men."

Armando is such a weak shit. He just funnels his men's grievances up instead of attacking them with logic. If it were me, he would be a short-timer. Thankfully, I'm just the XO of Atlanta, and that's enough.

"Mark called me earlier. Javier is in trouble."

"Really? Another bad quarter?" I want to see what he'll tell me. I've got the scoop already from Hal.

"Oh yeah. Lost three, bleeding badly, worried about what the CO will look for when she hits his office. Where's her next stop?"

"Above my pay grade. I get the feeling only Hector knows." That'll stop all calls. Hector is the ultimate shield.

Armando is silent. "Everyone is nervous about these reviews. At first it was considered a joke but . . . since we have no idea what she'll do, everyone's starting to get nervous. We know she has a reputation for mayhem."

This is the best thing he's said all night. No one in my office is talking. Wonderful! If they keep it up, I'll throw a party when she leaves, if we pass review. The time Chase spent in Trenton helped. Our men are beginning to understand the value of not saying anything to anyone. Constant recognition of the ideal, Trenton, has helped. I'll make sure to send a branch-wide announcement that their silence is making the other branches nervous and that it's good; if they don't know what the CO is looking for, the better we look in the review. The men will respond to that kind of incentive.

"All I can tell you is to be prepared for anything. I'm only half through and I'm constantly surprised."

Armando is clearly worried. Good. Weak shit. She's gonna tear your office apart.

* * *

Next call is Javier. The man needs to recognize that Shane has to be demoted.

"Javier, my man! You OK? Word on the grapevine is you're in trouble." Just plant the idea in Javier's head. He'll take off.

"Jesus, Danny, who's talking?"

"Javier, please. No acting stupid. It's all I've heard tonight."

Javier is quiet. "Ok, I'm in trouble. I lost three men, so I'm at the wire, and I'm hemorrhaging money here. I can't figure out how to fix it."

"You ask for a review?"

"Come on, man. That's just a way to fire us. Who in their right mind would ask for that shit?"

Don't you have a degree in Public Administration from one of the most expensive colleges in the country? You can't figure out the purpose of a management review?

"I did. I asked Steph for a review during her skip tracing workshop. I thought it would be a good idea to let her come in and look at my office with fresh eyes. See if she would catch things I've been missing. And if I was fucking up badly, I put myself out there instead of letting her poke around to find it on her own."

"And?" He's starting to consider it.

"Completely worth it. She found things I hadn't considered and confirmed the ones I had. And this is just week one. I'm almost afraid of what else she'll find."

I can hear Javier thinking about it. I decide to push him along.

"Look, you've seen the reporting structure. She's your boss now. Be open with her if you want to keep your job. Reconsider everything you know and let go of the secrecy with her. The secrecy that runs through this company is our biggest problem. At least with her, be honest."

"Man, you know everyone is secretive to keep Mark out of their offices."

"True. But don't let that be your excuse with your boss. Always be honest with your boss. It's what you expect of your men, right?"

"Yeah . . . but that's different."

"How?"

"There's no question that I'm permanent. She's a question mark."

"If you think that, Javier, you're deluding yourself. She's permanent. You're a question mark. Didn't Armando fill you in?"

"Fill me in? On what?"

"Leadership Core's been putting her on the paperwork for the past two years. She's a partner in all but name. She has access to everything. She's permanent. The question is, are you?"

"Seriously? She's on everything?"

"Yeah."

"That asshole thinks he's set to be a partner next."

"I don't know. That's a decision of Leadership Core so it's above my pay grade. What I do know is that, regardless of whether or not Mark is right, Steph's in charge right now. Javier, be honest with yourself. What's the one thing you could do to improve your branch?"

Come on, Javier. Say it. Have the guts to admit it. The silence stretches out.

"I need to demote Shane. I know it. I just can't do it."

Thank GOD! He's aware of the problem. "Why?"

"Because he's a good strategist—"

"**BULLSHIT**! If he were a good strategist you wouldn't have the problems you do. Maybe he **is** a good strategist but he's the **wrong** strategist for NYC. Accept that. If you can't bring yourself to fire him, have him transferred elsewhere. But you can't keep him."

I hear Javier sigh and shift. He's loyal to his men, the ones he can keep, and he hates the idea of letting Shane go. Shane would actually be the ideal strategist for Miami.

"If you don't want to let Shane go, have you thought about asking for him to be transferred?" I ask. Let's see if he's considered it.

"Yeah. He would be ideal for Miami, but you know Armando isn't giving up Diego." Jesus, Javier knows the problem, sees the solution, what's the issue?

"Then ask the CO for the transfer. Ask for a short term one, let Diego help you turn it around and see if you can convince him to stay. Sell him on NYC. Try anything. Look, if you get nothing else out of our chat tonight, understand this: You have to be honest with your boss. Whenever Steph shows up, be prepared to show everything and ask for what you need. Be honest with her and with yourself."

"How do you think you'll make out?"

"I don't know, but I'm trying to come out OK. Like I said, she found things I hadn't considered and I'm sure she's got some plans I may or may not like, but she's completely genuine, man. It won't hurt. She won't bust your ass open on the mats. And believe it or not, as long as you play fair with her, she'll preserve your authority in front of your men. She hasn't contradicted or questioned my orders in front of my men yet. I've had my pride stung in private, but I haven't been hurt in public."

Javier needs time to think about this. I know that, so I sign off.

The nosy fucker is last. I need a Scotch for this call.

* * *

Chase and Adam are on the line with me when I call Mark. Again, a lesson of the Trenton branch: Core Team should always be tight. No secrets. They need to know what the party line against Mark is.

"Mark. How's Beantown?"

"Wet. Atlanta?"

"Same. April's a beast."

"Yeah. Look, enough bullshit. What's going on there? What's she looking for? What's she doing?"

Fucker. I'm not your subordinate. I let the silence linger.

"Danny?"

"Mark."

"Well?"

"I think you misunderstand, Mark. I'm not your fucking subordinate. Moderate your tone."

Silence. Mark truly believes he's in charge.

"Fine. My apologies. Give me an idea of what's she's doing."

"She's conducting a management review and a damn good one if I say so myself. She's sharp."

"Oh yeah? What's she looking at?"

"Everything."

"That's not an answer, Danny." He's annoyed now, but I'm not giving him much to build off.

"It **is** an answer. She's conducting a very thorough, top to bottom management review. She's watching my men, looking at the reports, examining the buildings, reviewing the finances, and determining if my pipeline makes sense."

"No fucking way she's doing that all in two weeks."

"I promise you, she is. Like I said, she's sharp. She's found things I hadn't considered, confirmed the things I had found, and given me ideas to consider. It's completely worth the time and effort. Just be honest with her and everything will be fine."

There's silence on the line. Mark doesn't want to consider that his boss might be competent. It would ruin the smear campaign he has going.

"Who's with her?"

"Ram and Hector."

"So Ram is accompanying her on these trips?" Adam and Chase smirk. Idiot hasn't even considered that Hector might be the one to watch out for.

"He is on this one, but he had his own reasons. He's trying to learn more about the bid process. I think he plans to stay an extra week to shadow Chase before he heads back to Trenton."

"So where's she going next?"

"No clue. Above my pay grade."

"Who would know?"

"Hector, maybe."

Again, silence. Now he's considering the possibilities. "Who's her partner?"

Congratulations, asshole. You got there in one go. "Hector."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"Nope. Hector is her partner."

"Hector doesn't speak English."

"Doesn't seem to matter. They have some sort of weird sign language going. He gets his point across." Now he knows he won't get any cooperation out of any of the branches. Most of Hector's direct reports are here and the men have been looking at him for a week. I know beyond a doubt that Hector has solidified his business reputation in Atlanta. Miami and NYC know the gang reputation. A man whose handle is _Asesino_ isn't catching a lot of problems in places where his reputation will precede him. Trenton's been a wash since he stepped foot there; that's her home territory and they love the CO.

"Well, if she has any sense, she'll head to NYC next."

"You want me to tell her you said that?" Chase and Adam snigger.

Silence. "Not amusing, Danny."

Yes it was. That's why I said it. "Apologies. How's your Bonds Enforcement group doing?"

"Fuck you, Danny." _Click_.

Chase and Adam fall out of their chairs laughing. I join them. God, that was the best call in a while.

The guys leave, still chuckling. One last call to make.

* * *

**A/N: Conversation in Spanish**

The new org chart gave me a chance to understand how the company is structured, or has been restructured, and there's only one other man in the lines of authority with equal standing to an XO. I carefully consider this call and decide that it's appropriate.

"Hector?"

"Danny. How can I help you?"

"This is more a pulse check to you. All the XOs have a set of round robin calls that we make weekly to try to get a pulse for what's going on company-wide. Not our normal daily XO pulse check but more of a weekly fishing session. You're not an XO but you're a senior level manager and the only other man in the company at an XO level. I thought it appropriate."

Silence. Yeah, this is new so I'm not sure how much Hector will tell me. Either way, I'm doing what I think is appropriate.

"The SharePoint site is at least two days ahead of schedule. I'm recommending removal of the server farm from your building."

What! Shit, I thought we were doing well. "I thought my men handled things well, Hector. What gives?"

"You are doing well. If you can keep this up, I'm recommending buying the building next door to increase your space and building a full server farm next door. Not just for the company but for any company that wants to mirror their servers to us. Disaster recovery planning. I think Nate and the boys can handle it."

Damn. I'm speechless. I literally am speechless. I can't think of a single question to ask. That's major faith in my men. Well, his men, but they're based here.

"Of course, Steph may decide to use some of the office space we already own in the satellite offices to do it, which is why I've been examining all the buildings, but I would prefer not to. I prefer to keep things central."

I finally find my voice again. "We lease most of the buildings. I think the only one we bought outright is Macon, because it was so cheap."

"Hmmm. . . I'll consider that. In any case, this plan is definitely a year or more off, but start thinking about it. See if you can find me some cheap buildings. In the meantime, the internal site is coming along nicely and everything looks good. Questions?"

"Is your relationship with the CO considered secret?"

"Who'd you leak to?" He sounds amused.

"Miami. Armando was prepared to throw her to the wolves, AKA his men. I thought I'd head that off. Because I told him, I went ahead and told Mark too." The more I think about it, the more pissed I am.

"No, our relationship is not considered a secret. It simply hasn't been discussed."

"OK. Good. Well, heads up. Armando had planned to throw her to his men. I don't know how well I've thrown his plans off, but I tried."

"I'm sure you did fine. Anything else?"

"Are we considering alternatives to our current cameras? I saw these slick numbers in a magazine." I read off the magazine and page number. This starts a lively conversation over the benefits of offering upgrade packages to clients to encourage them to upgrade their equipment at the end of a contract.

An hour slips by before I'm even aware. At the end of the call, I decide to tease Hector. Dangerous, but I'm feeling good.

"OK, so you know you're supposed to call the other XOs, right?"

I hear a chuckle on the other end. "Fuck 'em. I can snoop in their shit all day long without them being aware. I've always known when you fuckers were lying."

Gotta love IT. They're such pricks. "So why not tell Leadership Core?"

"I did. They were always aware of everyone's moves. It was the motivations that were harder to figure out sometimes."

"Ah. By the way, who was leaking to Boston? Sam?"

"What makes you think it was him?"

"He's walking funny."

"Pulled hamstrings will do that to a man. He say anything?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason. Just wondered if he'd gone ahead and gotten his jaw wired. I may have knocked it out of alignment. He'll know not to leak or to lie to me about it next time."

Damn! That's harsh. I need to check with Chase and make sure Sam's on the injured/disabled list. When he's better, mat time with me. Lying to senior management is insubordination and I take men to the mats for it each time it happens. No one slides on that, not with me.

We disconnect and I review what I've learned tonight.

Javier's in serious trouble. If the topic comes up, I'll try to push Steph to go to NYC ASAP. Armando still doesn't know who's leaking in his branch. Hal's fine, as expected, and Mark is desperate to know how good Steph is. This is more than the curiosity of an egotistical control freak. I'd bet money he's up to something. I decide to tell Hal at the next pulse check.

Now, where did I stash that bottle of Scotch?


	29. I Pray for Absolution

**A/N: If you are confused by the constant use of the word 'pipeline' and need to know what it means, please see my profile for a link to a really great explanation.**

* * *

**Chapter 29: I Pray for Absolution**

**Javier's POV**

I slump back in my seat and consider what I've heard. **Everyone** knows I've had a bad year. Lester is probably ready to hand me my ass. The general consensus is that Shane has to go. I don't know what decision to make.

One of the founding principles of RangeMan, one of the reasons I signed on, was the idea that loyalty was important. That once we hired a man, we didn't fire him unless we were looking at gross incompetence or misconduct. We coach him, motivate him, and/or kick him in the ass as appropriate, but you do everything you can to get him performing at standard. That's part of the reason why I won't fire Shane.

It makes me wonder which one of those I'll get.

Danny's call was probably the most encouraging one tonight. I like talking to Danny, especially when I've got a problem, because like me, he's not military. He'll give me options and suggestions instead of orders, which is what Mark did tonight. Danny encouraged me to come clean to the CO, ask for help, and lay my problems out on the line. Hal advised the same thing, that Steph is good at thinking creatively and she's trustworthy. I'm not sure that's really what I want to do, but I'm realizing it's what I have to do. No one outside Atlanta knows what she's looking for in these management reviews. Atlanta has completely plugged all holes; even Mark can't get any information out of his sources. Her process is a secret, so it's better to put myself out there and take my beating like a man.

This is why I joined the reserves. I like to have as much information as I can get to make the hard decisions. I give myself time to consider all options.

First thing first. I need to hand someone else their ass.

"Mark?"

"Javier. Good. Look, Patrick will be there in two days to tell you—"

"No, he won't. You'll recall him immediately. I didn't ask you to send him here nor did I agree when you announced you would. This isn't your branch, Mark, it's mine—"

"And the way you're going on, it won't be your branch for long. Don't be prideful, Javier. Let me send Patrick. He's the best."

"Best or not, I didn't request him. This isn't your branch. Now, can you pass the message along to Patrick? Or do I need to call him personally and tell him that if he shows up at RangeMan NYC I'll turn him right back around to Boston?"

Silence. "On your own head be it. I'll tell him." _Click_.

I don't trust Mark, so I wait 15 minutes and call Patrick myself.

"Patrick? Javier here."

"Hey man. Look, Mark just told me I need to be in NYC in 48 hours, that you need some help and are resisting it. I'm not coming to poke in your branch. Just here to help."

What part of 'Stand Down' does Mark not understand? Arrogant fucker! "Patrick, I told Mark, and now I'm telling you, that if you show up at RangeMan NYC I'll turn you right back to Boston immediately. I didn't request your services. Nothing against you personally, but I have a plan that I'm executing now. Any questions?"

Silence. "No, Javier. Look man, I apologize for getting in your business. Arrogant of me. Your branch. Do as you will."

"I will." _Click_.

OK, so the nosy fucker is taken care of. Now for the hard call.

"Stephanie Plum, please."

"This is Steph. Who is this?"

"This is Javier. Look, I need to talk to you, and this won't be a short call. Do you have some time?"

I can hear her moving around in the background. "Give me 30 minutes then call me back. Is everything OK?"

No, it isn't, and I'm praying you can help me save my ass. "I'm OK. The branch is not. That's why I'm calling."

"Ok. 30 minutes. Talk to you then." _Click._

Thirty minutes gives me time to sketch out everything I need to cover with her and get comfortable. 31 minutes later, I call her back.

"Steph?"

"Javier? OK, tell me what's going on."

I take a deep breath, gather my courage and confess my sins. I tell her everything, every lost contract, every lost man, every hemorrhage in my office.

"So that's it. I'm in deep trouble here in NYC, Steph. I just lost three men in the last quarter and I haven't been able to replace them. I haven't grown the branch in four quarters, and I'm having problems with recruiting. My pipeline is completely busted. And most of my problems lead back to my strategist, Shane. I'm a problem too, but between the two of us we haven't been able to fix this branch at all."

I hear a deep sigh on the other end of the line. I check the time. 2000. It's not that late.

"OK. Have you considered your solutions?"

I don't like my solutions. That's why I'm calling you. "Yes. My best solution is to transfer Shane to Miami. He's a natural fit for Miami, but Armando won't be willing to let go of Diego for all the tea in China. At minimum, I gotta get Shane out of my branch. My other problem is pay scale. RangeMan pay starts at 65K. Anywhere else in the country that's great pay, excellent pay really, but in NYC it's middling, especially for all the stuff we do."

"OK, let's start first with your strategist. Assume I can move Shane out. Who do you want to replace him and for how long?"

For the first time in weeks I feel a bit of hope. Can she really do it? "I don't know who I'd want. I was thinking Diego because I think Shane is suited to Miami, but I don't actually know anything about Diego really. Mark offered, well ordered me to take Patrick, but Patrick won't mesh well here. I like Chase but from what I know of him, he's better suited to the laid-back atmosphere of Atlanta. Manny might not be a bad option, but Trenton is brand new. He doesn't have a track record as a strategist. I don't know who to choose, but what I do know that everyone is possessive of their strategists because they're the office idea men. Losing one is akin to losing an arm and leg."

I hear silence on the other end of the phone. "OK, let's move to the pay issues. What do you want there?"

I'm a bit surprised that she's simply asking me what I want. "Umm . . . a higher starting pay for NYC would be great. I don't know what RangeMan pay is based on, but if you do a cost of living adjustment for NYC, NYC RangeMen are underpaid compared to the rest of the company."

"OK. Pipeline. What there?"

"Anything. I don't know how you're conducting your management review, but I'm asking to be next. I need a top to bottom review. I've tried and failed to fix this problem so I'm hoping you can come in and tell me what you think."

Silence. "Ok, Javier, I'll consider what you've said. I'll call you back tomorrow, 2PM. You available?"

"I will be." I mean that. If she's willing to help me haul my ass out the fire, I'll do whatever she wants. "Question."

"Yes?"

"How come you're asking me what I want to do?"

I hear quiet laughter. "First thing to understand about me, Javier, is I hate being ordered to do something. I hate having my choices taken away from me. Even Ranger knows that giving me options to choose from will get more cooperation than ordering me to do something. So I won't take your choices away from you. The way I see it, it's my job to help you weed through your choices and decide what's most appropriate for you. It's not my job to tell you what to do if I don't have to. That's Leadership Core. Besides, sometimes you know what you need to do, you just don't want to do it or acknowledge it. AKA Denial Land. I'm a frequent visitor."

I laugh. I get it. Now I understand why Danny told me to come clean. This isn't going to be like confessing to Ranger or Lester that I fucked up and praying I live through my session on the mats. This is someone willing to pat my hand, nod and say, '_Yes, you really fucked up, but we'll make it better_'.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Javier's call tonight was surprising. I check my email, pull Javier's financials and am stunned at the results.

RangeMan NYC is bleeding red ink all over the place. Their reserves are as bad as Atlanta's were and they don't have enough contracts to cover their costs. Worse, they don't have enough men to cover the contracts. It's Trenton with a twist. This is at an emergency level.

I consider the options Javier presented and decide that I need higher level approval before I do what I'm thinking. I call Tank.

"Tank?"

"Nope. Hey Beautiful!"

"Les! How's Texas?"

"My balls are sweating."

"Great. Thanks for the visual, Les. Look, you got some time? I need to talk to you." I can hear Les moving around in the background and speaking to someone else.

"Hey Little Girl!"

"Hey Bomber!"

"Hey guys! How's it going? Please, no updates on the state of your balls. I got that already from Les." I hear chuckles and a head slap.

"So Bomber, how are we looking? Atlanta OK?"

"Yeah, I know what I'm going to recommend for Atlanta, even with a week to go. The issue tonight is NYC."

Les is serious now. "OK, let's have it Steph. What's wrong?"

"Long story short, they're on the verge of collapse." I hear the sharp intake of breath three times. "Pull their financials and take a look. This was their worst quarter yet and they lost three men. They're losing contracts all over the place, and Javier is recommending the removal of Shane. I'm thinking I want to Trojan Horse his operation until I can get there."

There's silence on the other end of the line. Finally I hear a string of curses from Les. He's not a happy man.

"Fuck that. Javier has to go. There's no way you can continue to fuck up at this level and still survive."

"Yes you can. Atlanta did. The reserves were the problem here and once they got Bonds Enforcement under control we were able to straighten everything else out."

"So are you saying that you think this is fixable?"

"I'm saying I don't know if it's fixable, but until I can assess it, let's not assume it's all Javier's fault."

"So what're you thinking, Little Girl?"

"You guys know the men. Who is the most innovative Strategist in the company?"

The answer is quick. "Patrick. No doubt," Lester answers.

"Patrick won't mesh well in NYC, according to Javier. Who's next?" Please say Manny, please say Manny.

"Fine. Manny is next."

Thank god. Now for Javier's concern. "He doesn't have a track record."

"Trenton Apprehensions and his FBI career is his track record. He's the strategist I'd put second in the company, followed by Diego and Chase then Shane," Les replies.

Excellent. Javier has already rejected Patrick so it's not inappropriate for me to send Manny and Diego. They're numbers two and three. "OK, so I'll send Manny and Diego to NYC. Diego and Shane will swap and I'll give Diego a quarter to do what he can. Manny will be there as the Trojan Horse, to review them both. Javier for competency and leadership skills, Diego for strategy."

"Bomber, I'm not sure I'm following your plan." Bobby sounds confused.

"See, it's easy for Javier to say Shane is the problem, and I'm sure that if I ask Shane he'll say Javier is the problem. So, this tests them both. If I send Shane to Miami and Miami starts having problems, then Shane is an issue. If Manny finds that Javier is a weak leader, then Javier is the issue. If they both perform well, then it was a branch-strategist mismatch. If they both bomb then they both go."

Silence on the other end. "Fucking brilliant," says Les.

"Glad you think so. Here's the kicker. Armando isn't going to want to give up Diego, from all I hear, so I have a question for you guys. Who takes over San Antonio when you leave?"

Silence on the other end of the line. "Haven't thought about that yet, Little Girl. We're having enough trouble integrating the men. SOP is to appoint the best of the new men into the roles."

"Well, if one of the goals of the company is to get the men to start thinking that there's room for growth in the company, one of the ideas each man should have in mind is that when a new branch comes up, there's a possibility for a leadership role there. Win-win because you end up placing men with experience in the company in the leadership of the new branch and every man starts thinking about his performance in terms of promotion and future leadership roles. If I can sell Diego on the idea that I'd like to see his performance in NYC with an eye toward XO status elsewhere, do you think he'd jump at the chance?"

I can hear Bobby whistle on the other end. "Bomber, that is positively Machiavellian, and it resolves an issue for us. OK, I'm in. Guys?" I get two more positives from Les and Tank.

"OK, here's the hard part of the equation. NYC pay."

"Little Girl, we've been over that with Javier time and time again. It's a no go."

"Then you might as well shut the branch down, Tank. It has to be on the table. I went online to a cost of living calculator and did the math. $65K in Miami is equivalent to between $30K and $45K in NYC, depending on your borough. Would you be a RangeMan, with all the standards and requirements, for $30K when average starting salaries for bodyguards in NYC range between $45K and $60K, which is equivalent to $21K to $29K in Miami? It has to be discussed, Tank. $65K is not the same everywhere."

I can sense reluctance to this plan. "Look, I did the COLA for every current RangeMan location with the assumption that $65K is Miami baseline. In Trenton and Boston, the COLA is in the guys' favor by about $10K. In Atlanta, it's about equal. Only in NYC is it way out of line. We need a way to deal with it."

"So, what's an equivalent salary in NYC? I'm guessing Liaison level, right?" Tank asks.

"At a minimum. I'm not ignoring the fact that the men elsewhere would revolt, but when you do the math, the money disappears faster because of the housing and transportation costs."

"So what are you recommending, Little Girl?"

"NYC Differential of 30%. That brings NYC salary up to $85K, which is competitive in NYC, although it's still out of line for the company. What it means is that we have to be more creative with their pipeline. That's why I want to send Manny and Diego there. Let them figure out how to make it work. And if the men start revolting, we'll allow transfers to the NYC office. That takes care of staffing levels for NYC."

Silence, then, "I don't know why we didn't bring you into the company earlier, Steph," Bobby says. "That's so sneaky it's scary."

I smile. I'm feeling good tonight. Sarah, Rose and I all had two hour massages, courtesy of the Atlanta Bonds Enforcement Department, so all my tension has floated away. I called Lula and Connie to get the 'Burg scoop and Grandma to hear about a viewing at Stiva's. Javier caught me on a very good night.

"So, can I move forward with this plan?"

"You certainly may, Little Girl. Keep us informed."

"I will Tank. Talk to you guys later."

_Click_.

Sigh. They still haven't improved in phone manners.

* * *

Now that I have my plan, time to execute.

"Hello, Manny?"

"Hey, Wifey! What's going on?"

"Quiet night here in Atlanta. Look, I have an assignment for you."

"Oh yeah, what is it? Oh, and I need to talk to you about something later."

"OK. Look, it's about the NYC branch." I hear Manny start laughing in the background. "What's so funny?"

"That's what I needed to talk to you about. How soon are you planning to go, Steph?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet, but what I need is for you to go. ASAP. Like in 48 hours."

Silence on the other end. "OK. That's surprising. What's going on?"

I lay out the full situation for Manny, including what I need him to do. I can hear him chuckling and taking notes.

"So I'm going in as the corporate spy?"

"Yup. I need someone I can trust and who is creative and has good instincts to tear that office apart until I can get there. That's you. Do whatever you need to. Send me back the info and whatever orders you need me to make in order to get that office under control. I need a break between Atlanta and NYC, so I'm thinking it will be a month before I come in to do the management review. That's enough time for you to get started."

"I think it's a great plan. Suggestion."

"OK?"

"Call a full meeting tomorrow. Me, Hal, Javier, Shane, Armando, and Diego. Let them know the decision you've made and who's going where. The only negative to this plan is that you leave Trenton without an in-house strategist for a while. I can do it from NYC, but Hal and Ram definitely need to know they'll need to cover my gaps. And I'll need to give point on the SharePoint project over to Ram."

"OK. Anything else?"

"Call Diego tonight and get him onboard. If you order him to go to NYC at tomorrow's meeting without having sold it to him first, all he'll hear is the order, not the benefits. Get him on board now. And make sure he knows he's part of a two-man strategy team, but that he's taking point in front."

"He was my next call. I'll do that. Anything else?"

"Nope. I'll start packing my bags and I'll call Hal tonight to give him the heads up so he isn't caught off-guard tomorrow. 2PM, right?"

"Right. Thanks, Manny."

_Click_.

My next seminar is going to be on RangeMan phone manners.

* * *

It's 10PM, but in RangeMan time that's not late. I look up Diego's number and call him.

"Hello? Can I speak to Diego?"

"Fuck off. I'm busy." _Click._

OK. Let's try again. "Hello, this is Stephanie Plum. Is this Diego?"

Silence. "Uh . . . yes, Ms. Plum, how can I help you?" All background noise is gone, as if every man in the room has gone silent.

"Diego, I need to speak to you and I need this conversation to be kept absolutely confidential and private. Are you in a place where you can talk?"

Silence again, then, "No, I'm not. Can I call you back in five minutes? That'll give me time to get by myself."

I agree and wait for him to call back.

"Ms. Plum, how can I help you?"

"Stephanie, please. I'm hoping that you can, and will, help me. Just so we're clear, I'm not calling about the Miami branch. I need to talk to you about doing me a favor."

The thing about talking to Core Team members is that no matter which one you talk to, they're all deeply suspicious. They're weighing every word you say against what they believe to be true and looking to see if you are lying to them or if your conversation has a trap. I can feel Diego's disbelief. We've never met. Why would I want _him_ to do me a favor?

"OK, Ms. Plum, shoot. What do you need?"

"As much as you guys in the company gossip, I'm sure you're aware of the situation in NYC, correct?"

"Correct."

"I've been on the phone with Javier and Leadership Core tonight, and I'm offering you an opportunity. I want to switch you and Shane for one quarter, and I'd like to see what you can do with the NYC branch."

"I don't follow, ma'am." He sounds genuinely confused.

"All I hear is that Shane is a natural fit for Miami and that you would be a better fit in NYC. I don't know but I'm willing to test the theory. I'd like to send you and Manny to NYC for a quarter, with you as the point man, to see what you can do with that branch. The assignment may run longer as necessary. I'm working to resolve other issues in the NYC branch, but what I need is a creative strategist who can take control there. I've been told you're the man to place there. Can you do it?"

"Ms. Plum—"

"Steph, please."

"Steph, permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead."

"Thank you. Steph, I'm flattered but I'm already a strategist in Miami. It's a downgrade for me to take NYC. Pay sucks, the pipeline's busted, and the leadership is a joke. Where's the incentive?"

"Have you considered being an XO?" I hear a small intake of breath and realize he's on the hook. Good. Time to reel him in. "An XO is more than just a leader. He's a problem solver, with the ability to inspire those under him to do better, work harder, and be more creative. San Antonio is going to need a Leadership Core in a few months, and you saw what happened in Trenton. That may be the method for filling in Leadership spots from now on.

So basically, I'm using NYC to audition future XOs, strategists, and liaisons. The people who can help Javier pull NYC out the fire will be the first people we look at when the new offices come up later on. I'm working on the pay issues, but what's most important is getting the pipeline fixed and determining if there really is a leadership problem in NYC. That's why I need you and that's why I'm sending both you and Manny. You can report on the branch and Javier, objectively please. Facts only. Now, will you take the position?"

I can hear him looking for the trap. It sounds entirely too good to be true. "So if I can't get the pipeline fixed?"

"I need to know why. What are the options and what do you suggest."

"If I get the pipeline fixed and want to return to Miami?"

"I'll make it happen."

"Does this make me a front-runner for leadership positions across the company?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm in, Steph. When do you need me to report?"

"48 hours. I'm sending an email now with a request for a meeting at 2PM tomorrow. I'll detail the assignment to all involved. SOPs for short term assignments apply." I'm assuming there's some in that huge book of SOPs I have yet to read.

"OK. I'll follow the guidelines. Thank you, Steph. May I ask, who recommended you call me?"

"Who else? Leadership Core."

* * *

My morning is spent in church in Atlanta. I learn that my partner, for all his reputation, is a deeply religious man and wants to ensure his nephew grows up with the same principles he did. He wouldn't take Holy Communion, for personal reasons, so Nikki and I took Hector Manuel to the altar for Holy Communion and prayer.

I spent my time at the altar praying. I prayed for Ranger's safety and that he wrapped this op up soon. I prayed for Tank, Lester and Bobby out in Texas since they were having so many problems getting the new RangeMen to operate as a group. I prayed for Hector, that whatever it was (and I had a good idea what it was) that was preventing him from taking Holy Communion resolved itself before his death. I prayed for all the men of RangeMan, the ones I'd met and the ones I haven't, that they remained safe in the field and healthy and that I didn't bankrupt the company and put them out of jobs.

I prayed for myself, for wisdom and guidance, that I did what was right, not just today at 2PM but every day. My decisions affect this company's very existence. I can't afford mistakes.

I figured with all that prayer I was covered for another 364 days.

After lunch we hit IHOP and I indulged in a massive omelet and fluffy pancakes. Thankfully my moans don't seem to affect Hector, and Hector Manuel just thought they were funny. Nikki looked at me in awe.

"Girl, I've never seen anyone put away food like that."

"They have me on a new diet. No carbs, no calories, no fats, no taste. And a personal trainer who has an incentive to try to kill me."

Nikki shuddered. "Does it work?"

I nodded sadly. "I've dropped from an 8-10 to a 6-8 in five weeks, **with** a fractured tibia. I'd hate them if it weren't so effective."

Nikki looked, wide eyed, at Hector, who shrugged. "You need a personal trainer? I'll get you the gym membership and a contract if you want it. Or you can work with the RangeMan Atlanta group. That's probably a better option. Danny won't mind having Hector Manuel in office, you'll both be safe there, and the guys will know how best to get you where you want to be."

"Yeah, but again, I'm relying on you for something I should provide for myself." She sighed unhappily.

I cut in before she could continue. "Nikki, believe me, it would make the guys happier for you to go there. RangeMan is definitely a 'we take care of our own' company. You're Hector's. The guys will always want to keep an eye on you and Hector Manuel. He's charmed the office." I reach over the table and pinch his cheeks, which makes him grin at me.

I take a moment to consider the irony of what I just said. I've gone from only wanting to be at RangeMan when absolutely necessary to encouraging someone else to hang out there.

Nikki smiles. "I'll think about it."

"Well, while you're thinking about it," Hector says, "let's get back to the office. Steph has a 2 o'clock call and I can show you the gym and introduce you to the guys in charge. See if you feel comfortable."

We return to RangeMan and I hit the CO's office to prep before the meeting. I already know what I'm recommending for Atlanta and I've started writing Danny's report. My mind is on the 2PM call.

Shortly before two, I get two drop-in visitors who surprise me. First is Ram.

"Steph?" I motion for him to take a seat while I finish typing. Finally I look up and Ram is grinning. "You look very managerial."

"I'm going stir-crazy."

"Hector has Hector Manuel again and he said something about an afternoon stroll in the park. You interested?"

Fresh air. Sun. Sounds good. I nod.

"Second thing. Manny tells me I'm taking point on the SharePoint deployment with Hector?" I nod. "OK, I'm assuming Manny's headed to NYC?" Ram smiles slyly.

"Is there a RangeMan in this entire company who doesn't know what's going on in NYC?"

"Nope. Javier's office leaks like a sieve," Danny replies, walking in. Surprise visitor number two is with him. "Sorry to intrude, but Hector Manuel is determined to say hi to you. Got a minute?"

For that curly haired cutie? Absolutely. Hector Manuel comes running in, all three year old energy and enthusiasm, and immediately climbs into my lap and starts telling me how much he's missed me. I glance at the clock; it's only been two hours. I understand a quarter of what he's saying but I'm able to occasionally ask a question, which makes him grin. Hector is smiling; this is hilarious to him. Finally he runs out of steam, kisses my cheek (aww. Sticky toddler kisses) and runs out of the office, Hector right behind him. Danny and Ram look at each other, look at me, and laugh.

"That was adorable, Steph."

"Yeah yeah, he's the cutie. I'm just his favorite lap. So what's up?"

"Nothing."

Yeah right, nothing. These two are grinning like they know something good. "Spill."

"Armando's already having shit fits," Danny says. "When you called last night, the Miami guys were at a club, and a call from the CO to the strategist, with no preceding or follow-up call to the XO, got everyone's attention. Then Diego, who is a hound-dog at the 'Lester' level, leaves and doesn't return. Evidently, Armando returned to RangeMan to find Diego packing and wanted to know what was going on. Diego said the CO had an assignment for him that she was detailing at 1400 so he was going to be prepared for whatever she requested. Completely threw Armando for a loop. Next thing Armando knows, Mark's on the phone asking how he lost control of his office. This entire thing has turned into a slapstick skit."

Ram is wiping his eyes from laughing. Danny is biting his fist trying not to laugh. I've rolled my eyes directly up to the ceiling.

Ram picks up. "Meanwhile, Hal's at home base wondering when it became fashionable to poach his best men from his office. He's grumbling that if the CO is taking his Leadership Core, she's gotta come home and help. He said, and I quote, 'You tell her I've got a few hours of monitor duty for her'."

Ram can barely finish, he's laughing so hard, and Danny is trying hard not to. He finally breaks and they laugh till they cry.

Wonderful. I wonder where the closest church is. I may need to attend another Mass before this call.


	30. I'm Getting Just What I Asked For

**Chapter 30: I'm getting just what I asked for**

**Javier's POV**

Two o'clock and everyone is on the call.

Even the uninvited.

"Mark?"

No response.

"Steph," I reply, "Mark isn't on this call."

"Oh yes he is," Steph replies. Really? Nosy fucker. "Hector has picked up his signal. Mark, I sincerely advise you to drop from this call and refrain from attempting to attend meetings and discussions to which you have not been specifically invited. Otherwise, I'm going to dispatch the company electronics man to Boston to permanently modify your ability to attend these calls."

Said like that, it sounds as if she's threatening his kneecaps. Or worse. How much of that EE Martin Mob mentality did she take on? I mean, since it's Hector we're talking about, anything goes.

_Click_.

Holy shit. That fucker really was trying to eavesdrop.

"Wonderful. Now that this meeting is limited to the principals, let me recap why we're all here. RangeMan NYC has just posted its fourth straight quarter of losses. This is an untenable situation for both the branch and the company as a whole. Does anyone have a comment or a question so far?" she asks.

I remember what Danny said about stings to his pride. I just received a wallop to mine.

"Steph, this is Armando. Am I to understand that I'm losing my strategist from Miami? Because I don't think that's the answer to solve this. I need Diego here to help me with my branch."

There's a long silence before Steph asks, "Anyone else?"

"Do you intend to answer my question?" Armando asks, angrily.

"Yes, but not right now. I'd like to get all questions up front. Anyone else?" Another long silence. "Hearing none, let me continue. Upon further review, it seems the problems in NYC run deeper than a mere problem with the pipeline. After discussion with Javier and the Leadership Core, this is what I have decided to do.

Effective immediately, Diego from RangeMan Miami and Shane from RangeMan NYC will switch locations for one quarter. I've heard that each of you may be a better fit for the office I'm sending you to so I'm going to try it. Based on the situation in NYC, I'm also dispatching Manny from RangeMan Trenton to NYC to assist both Diego and Javier.

Furthermore, I am working with the accountants to set up a NYC differential of 30%, to help in recruiting and bring the RangeMan NYC salaries in line with the area and the rest of the company.

Finally, Javier has requested a management review of his branch. I am granting his request. RangeMan NYC will be the next location I travel to, but I won't arrive for about a month. I need some downtime after Atlanta, and I want to give Diego and Manny a chance to get started on whatever is necessary in NYC. Shane, your performance in Miami is also under review, so don't consider this an attempt to simply move you to a new location."

Shane is looking at me angrily. I'm thinking we should both be very grateful. Neither of us got fired, and I didn't receive any calls from Leadership Core overnight with threats of mat time.

Actually, now that I think about it, I got every damn thing I asked for. I repented my sins and received absolution from my new boss. My pride took a beating, but I still have a job, I'm getting not one but **two** strategists to my branch, pay will be increased and she's coming for a management review.

I need to send Danny something to say 'Thank You'. Was he a scotch or brandy man?

"Any questions?" Steph asks.

Nope. That was pretty straightforward. Steph thanks us for attending and we all hang up. I'm confronted by a very angry Shane and Liam. _Sigh_. I should have asked for the removal of my liaison too. Oh well, best not to press my luck. I got everything I asked for this time.

"You're a dumbass, you know that? You realize what you've done, right?" Liam asks, beyond pissed.

"Yes. I leveled with my new boss. I confessed every single thing going on here. I asked her for her advice. I told her what I wanted. And I'm accepting her decision. That's what I've done."

"No, you dumbass," Liam retorts. "What you've done is allowed her to set up a situation to fire you and Shane and gut this branch. As bad as the current situation is, do you really think you'll make it out of this intact? You're a dead man walking."

I'm getting sick of being called a dumbass, so I raise an eyebrow. It doesn't matter; I can't take either one of these guys down on the mats, so that part of my leadership is null and void.

"None of the pipelines in Miami and Trenton are anywhere near ours, so they won't know what to do with our contracts. And she's sending two strategists. **Two!** That means that you're under review more than anyone." Shane is livid.

I'm sick of this. "You think I don't realize that? The moment she said she was sending Manny I realized I was under review. The man is a former feeb and is said to have good instincts. He ran Trenton Apprehensions like a well-oiled machine. Steph may have taught the guys how to search, but Manny gave Danny tips on how to restructure his guys to make them efficient. Danny went from last to second in one fucking month. Manny is the strategist **she** trusts. I'm not surprised she's sending him here, and if he can do that for Danny, then I'm grateful for him."

I cut Liam off before he can say anything. "Let's get something straight here. While you two are howling like dogs at the moon, you're missing the bigger picture. After an entire year of losses, none of us was fired. Pay at this branch will be increased. We're getting some of the best strategists in the company to come overhaul our office. And our new boss is coming to take a look.

Danny says that she's good. That she'll show us things that can really take the branch to the next level. I'm choosing to trust my fellow XO's opinion on what I should do because every time I've taken Danny's advice I've come out on top. So tell me, Shane, Liam, why should I choose, in this moment, to ignore my instincts and listen to the two of you?"

I turn to Shane. "Your entire life revolves around bodyguarding and you're always chasing contracts for it. Well, we've never been able to offer competitive contracts for that and you haven't had any other ideas. So take the bodyguard ideas to Miami, where bodyguards are big. Run that past Armando. Let him take it on. We've done an entire year of it and we've only sunk deeper and deeper. I'm done. I'll listen to whatever Diego and Manny have to say."

I'm headed to the gym. A lot of tension and worry has just been lifted from my shoulders. And to tell the truth, for the first time I'm acknowledging that I won't miss Shane. I'm looking forward to seeing what new blood can do here. I'll have to prove I'm still a good XO worthy of being in charge here.

I haven't been fired but my ass is on the chopping block. Time to pull it back.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

That call wasn't so bad, but I need to take care of a recurring problem. I ask Hector to record my next call.

"Mark? Hi, this is Stephanie."

"Yes. What do you want, Steph?"

I can see Hector getting pissed.

"Well, the first thing I want is for you to remove the stick from your ass. I am not some random person for you to constantly disrespect and I'm getting sick of it. I don't know what your issue is, if it's the fact that Leadership Core appointed me instead of you this time, but I'm sick of your attitude. It was the Leadership Core's call and this is what they've decided. You have a problem with it, you take it up with them."

"I did. You're still in charge and I still don't understand why."

OK, now I'm getting pissed. "Well then you lost that battle so give it a rest. Instead of getting to know me and working with me you're constantly trying to eavesdrop on me, which leads to my second point. I want you to stop patching into everyone else's calls when you haven't been invited. You continually eavesdrop on each branch and because of it you are the single leading cause of the secrecy and paranoia in this company. Every office is desperate to keep everything to themselves to keep **you** out of their branch. Let me be very clear. If you patch into another call, I will ask Leadership Core about the disciplinary actions I can take. Are we clear?"

The silence seems endless so I repeat the last question. "I'm not hanging up this phone until I get some kind of statement from you that you understand what I've said."

"Yes, ma'am, CO," he says, as if he's having to force it out.

"Yes, what?" I'm pissed and I want him to acknowledge that I told him to butt out.

"Yes, I understand your request."

Hector has pulled his switchblades. I'm sure he's mentally planning a quick trip to Boston. "It's not a request, Mark. It's an order. Now what is it?"

Silence on the line. "You want me to stop patching into everyone's calls."

"Right. I want you to stop patching into calls and I want you to quit eavesdropping immediately. I mean it and I appreciate your compliance. Otherwise, Hector is headed your way to do whatever's necessary to **make **you stop and I'm on the phone with Tank about disciplinary measures. And I mean that. Goodbye." _**Click**__**.**_

Hector is beyond pissed now, but I wave it off. I ask him to send a copy of that to all members of the Leadership Core Team. Include a note that it's simply for information and 'Inventive retribution is coming if he fails'. I don't want them to do anything right now. Let's see if Mark gets the message.

Besides, at the moment there's a three year old who wants to go to the park.

* * *

**Lester's POV**

I'm looking at the room of military men and wondering if I should reveal what I'm thinking. Hell, the juvie bit is the world's most open secret, thanks to Scrog. Tank's given me leave to reveal his past. I have all the men we pulled from around the company in the room with me. Time we give these boys a little reality check.

"So, you men are having trouble working alongside ex-gang bangers and ex-cons, right?" The room nods. "So how do you plan to work alongside the CO and Chief XO?"

"The hot chick?"

My resident class clown. _Sigh_. The recruits laugh. He and I will be back on the mats again this evening, and this time I intend that he won't find it easy to walk when I'm done. Since this is strike three, he's out. I don't break blank face and the laughs taper off. None of the RangeMen are laughing, especially those from Trenton. Chester Deuce looks a bit murderous. The recruits realize I'm serious.

"Sir, do you mean Captain Mañoso, sir?" one young recruit asks.

Jesus, are they signing children these days? This kid can't even shave!

"Captain Ricardo Mañoso, US Army Ranger, Special Ops veteran, Black ops commander. Did time in Juvie from age 14 to nearly 16. He was a very talented car thief for someone who could barely reach the pedals. Has some other things in his past I cannot and will not discuss."

I pause for a moment and let that sink in. The recruits look shocked.

"How about Staff Sgt. Tank LaPierre? Also US Army Ranger, Special Ops veteran, Black ops commander. Former member of the Crips. Did time in juvie at age 15. He doesn't discuss why, but apparently juvie in Louisiana is a bitch." I know why, but it's none of their fucking business.

The room is silent. All the men are stunned. Two of the four members of Leadership are ex-cons. Well, as much as a juvie can be an ex-con. They know at least one of the Leadership is an ex-gang banger.

Bobby and I are the clean ones.

"Now do you soldiers understand why RangeMan has always hired ex-gang members and ex-cons? The affiliations of your past do not matter here. We understand and acknowledge that youth is meant for making dumb mistakes, for doing shit you later regret deeply. 1 Corinthians 13:11 '_When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, __**I **__**put away childish things**_'."

I pause and take a look around the room. This is one of the few biblical scriptures that means anything to me and I like to give it due deference.

"When we hire men of non-military backgrounds we choose the men who have put away the childish things of their past and want brighter futures. We don't hire randomly; that's why the selection process to be a RangeMan is so difficult. All current RangeMen who are ex-gang bangers, please take one step forward."

A quarter of the room steps forward and the recruits are stunned. They didn't expect to see that many move.

"All current RangeMen who have done time, whether juvie or adult, please take a step forward."

Again, a quarter of the room moves, including some who moved previously.

"Look around, recruits. This is the background of the men you've been working with for over a month, and until this moment, you never even knew. _When I became a man, I __put away childish things_. Keep that Scripture in mind."

I dismiss the company and walk to my temporary office. There's a message on my phone and Tank and Bobby are in my office looking furious. Actually they look as if they're past furious.

"Have you listened to it?" Tank asks.

"What?" I'm confused.

Bobby already has his voicemail open and I listen as Mark takes it a step too far. He's fired. I hope Hector leaves me something to play with.

Just as I open my mouth to answer, my phone rings. _Oh shit. He must be livid_. "_Primo_."

"He's mine." _Click_.

He better be. 10-4.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

Unluckily for Mark, I'm in Boston, following up on leads. Massachusetts just had a massacre of their Gangs Task Force a month ago, so I'm here trying to learn everything I can. It's not looking good.

The chatter in the networks says that all targets are sitting pretty, feeling confident that the rumors of a takedown were false. So the counterintel op is working. Morelli moved to Delaware on Monday and he's already established contact with his marks. He spent his last week learning slang and trash talking with the men. He also met physical requirements. He was ready to go but I'm glad I held him back and prepped the way. He's already pulling great info over his wire due to his ability to work the streets in Spanish. I need to remind Tank to reward the men who worked to get him prepped so fast.

When I first listened to the tape, I assumed it was some sort of bad joke. I texted Hector, who said that if I didn't break Mark's kneecaps, he would leave him wishing I had. I realized that what I heard was correct and I had to wait 15 minutes to let the anger subside. I'm stuck between wanting to handle it now and wanting to see what Babe'll do. Hector said he's not sure what her method for dealing with it will be but she does want to handle it.

Understood, but I think Mark needs to fully understand his current predicament.

I cut the video feed and walk in. Keith is manning the desk. He leaps to attention.

"Don't announce me."

He nods and sits back down. He knows that the cameras won't be restored until I reach wherever it is I'm going.

I take the stairs to the 5th floor, walk in and motion for every RangeMan who sees me to sit back down.

"None of you see me. Don't announce me to management, but send Mark to his office. Pass the word along."

I walk into Mark's office and take a seat in his chair. I'm wondering if he'll survive this year with Steph in charge.

I hear him yelling at the men to get the cameras restored. Jason replies that they can't and he should check his office. Good man.

Mark enters in a fury until he spots me. I'm sitting comfortably, fingers pitched, blank face in place. I move to restore the cameras and motion for him to come in.

"Lock the door."

Mark locks the door and sits opposite, blank face in place, but I can see signs of apprehension. Good. You should be very scared.

I remove the phone from my pocket and play the recording. Mark blanches. I resume position and let the silence settle back into the room.

"This is the first contact I've received from her since I left. The first and it involves you."

I can see he's trying to decide how he wants to address what I've said.

"My instructions to you were very clear. Answer her truthfully. Assist her. Carry out her decisions. As a senior XO, it's what I expect from you and I shouldn't even have to articulate it. How does the constant undermining, eavesdropping, and disrespect help her?" I ask.

"She doesn't allow assistance, Ranger! I'm trying to get a handle on what she's doing, but she's more secretive than anyone else. I—"

I wave to cut him off. "Has she asked you for anything, aside from what I hear on this tape?"

"No," he replies, sullenly.

"Do you provide an opinion or suggestion when asked?"

I can see him clench his teeth. So he has been asked. This should be interesting. "No." Disappointing.

"Has she given you any orders to carry out?"

"No."

I let the silence fill the office again before I continue. "Like Leadership Core, she is not required to explain to you what she's doing. Sounds to me like what she has asked of you, you fail to provide and yet you still see fit to undermine her. Explain."

Silence.

"Let me make your situation perfectly clear, Mark. She's permanent and she's your boss. She has my full authority. You are making her job difficult. From the moment she took over, you and every other XO in this company have been under review. Furthermore, Leadership decided that any XO who gave her a hard time was going to be on thin ice with us."

I let that statement linger in the air. I lean forward and pin Mark with my most lethal gaze.

"Hear that sound?"

Mark leans forward and listens. "No, sir. What sound?"

"The sound of the ice under you cracking," I hiss.

He pales further. I sit back and look at Mark coldly. This is the last warning I'll ever give him. I maintain my decision. If she fires him, it's a done deal. Since he **has** given her trouble, in my mind, he's fired. I'm only holding off because she asked us to. At the end of the year, the **only** thing that will keep us from breaking him into pieces is if Steph pleads for his ass.

"The next time I get a message like that will be the last time. They'll need to sift to find your body. Assuming I get to you first. Her partner is ready to carve you into some very interesting pieces right now. So is Lester." Mark drops the blank face entirely. He looks terrified, as well he should. "Understood?"

He nods, frightened. I have nothing more to say, so I leave. Patrick and Rodney are standing outside the door as guards, but I know that it's also to hear what was being said.

"How much did you hear?"

They look at each other. "All of it, sir," Rodney replies, nervously. He and Pat look shaky.

I nod. "Same applies." I hit the stairwell and leave.

* * *

**Mark's POV**

I remain in the chair until my knees stop shaking. That's the first time Ranger has ever come in off assignment and it's to verbally hand me my ass.

I can't believe it. The SMACK recorded the phone call and sent it to all of Leadership, including Ranger. If Ranger was mad enough to actually come in, then I know that Lester, Tank and Bobby are in Texas furious with me. Lester's probably sharpening his blades. I hope to god Hector never . . . no, Hector is her partner and Ranger was clear that he knows. I wipe away the tears.

I move to the drinks cabinet and pull my brandy. I need a hit after that meeting. I can feel more tears in my eyes. Ranger couldn't have hurt me more if he had thrashed me on the mats.

I'm sorry, but I maintain what I said earlier. She's unqualified. She's basically having to learn the job on the job. I know that Leadership Core believes in her, but I have yet to see any reasons why. She spends more time asking us what we think than telling us what to do.

Patrick and Rodney walk in and shut the door quietly. Patrick pours two more glasses of brandy and we all sit around and look at each other. They look as shaky as I feel.

"Look Mark, I agree that she doesn't have any experience and she's unqualified, but she said herself that her promotion to CO was the call of Leadership," Patrick says quietly. "Let's put what we know about her on the table, alright? What do we know about her? First and foremost, she's trusted by them."

"She's a disaster as a BEA," I reply.

"But she has a 100% capture rate. She might not be the cleanest or most low-profile, but a 100% capture rate negates the word disaster. So, let's just admit it, she's a competent BEA."

I know intellectually the logic makes sense but I can't accept it.

"Alright, next thing we know. We know she's won over the Atlanta office."

I look up sharply. Rodney is nodding.

"It's true. Adam told me that the Atlanta office loves her. What little I can get out of him is that they feel the review is going well and whatever it is that she's recommended is positive for them. Plus, they've plugged all leaks."

That's true. Sam refuses to speak to me anymore.

Rodney continues. "That alone signifies that either Danny is fully in control of his office with her support or they've decided that telling us nothing is the best way to see us fail review."

I nod, miserable. I can't get anyone close to her to give me anything to prove she's a failure as CO so far, and I can't find out what her standards are in these 'reviews'.

"So she has Trenton and Atlanta. Danny's Bonds Enforcement group has leapfrogged from last to second behind Trenton. So, I think it's safe to say that their bonuses are guaranteed for the first time in about three years. They won't have anything to say against her. If Danny has the rest of his financial problems straight then he'll come out of this like a champ," Patrick says.

We consider this. If all that is true, Atlanta could possibly become the second most profitable branch in the company behind mine. Hell, Danny could possibly tie or surpass me since he can make money hand over fist with Bonds Enforcement. His Bonds Enforcement department is three times the size of mine.

Rodney refills his glass. "Let's move to NYC. By the way, no need to eavesdrop on the call. Liam and Shane were so furious it was easy to get what happened from them. Evidently, she's won over Javier. He asked for Shane's removal to Miami, increased pay, and a management review and he got every fucking thing he asked for. He's thrilled. After an entire year of fucking up, he got everything he wanted, plus Manny from Trenton and Diego from Miami **and** he didn't get fired."

I'm in shock. Is she stupid? I would've fired Javier and Shane. You can't fuck up for that long and be an effective leader. Javier is weak and Shane is stupid. She gave Javier everything he wanted. That makes absolutely no sense.

Finally, some proof she's a disaster as CO. I make a mental note to find out everything I can about what's going on in NYC. I'll be able to make the case from that.

"Mark, I can read your face and I know you can't wait to dig into everything going on in NYC, but let me make a suggestion for your best interest, my man," Patrick says, looking at me closely. "**Stay out of it**. Seriously. Don't poke your nose in. Let me and Rodney do the digging." Rodney is nodding vigorously.

"You're on notice of being fired so you can't afford to make any mistakes," Patrick continues. "Start making public gestures of contrition. Participate in the XO calls with the CO. Refrain from giving advice to the other XOs. Back off hitting up your contacts all the time trying to find out what she's doing. In short, pull your ass back from being fired."

Rodney nods. "If Ranger was angry enough to come see you personally, you know the rest of Leadership Core is ready to kill you. And we don't need visits from Hector here." He shudders. "If even half his rep is true, then I'll be content to live my whole life without meeting him."

We all take a slug of brandy and nod. Hector is scary. End of story.

Rodney continues. "Ranger put me and Patrick on notice that we're on the ice with you. So you have the ability to take us down right along with you. I don't know about you, but I can't think of another company where I can do this kind of work and make six figures and love my job." He pins me with a fierce stare. "So I refuse to get fired. If you want to make the case she's incompetent, even after it's become clear that she's permanent, fine, but I'm not getting fired. I'll help get you what you want but leave me out of it." Patrick nods in agreement.

I nod. I understand his dilemma. Rodney is on his second marriage, has six kids total and can't afford to be without his job. He has child support to pay. Patrick is a newlywed with a new baby. None of my leadership can afford to be unemployed.

I'll participate in her bullshit calls. I'll leave the other offices alone. I'll give my sources a break. My men are making it clear they'll help me, but if I intend to bring down the SMACK, I'm on my own. I understand and am grateful. 10-4.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know. You're ready to hang Mark now. Soooo . . . is now a good time to mention a new side story? Patrick's POV and it is titled 'Rebellion'.**

**Also, this was the chapter my muse initially abandoned me on. Your reviews prompted this (and 'Rebellion') upon her return. She would like to thank you for all the kind words left during her quick vacation and pleads that someone, anyone, contact the authorities on her behalf. I've chained her to my laptop to prevent further 'unauthorized' absences. **


	31. You've Earned It

**Chapter 31: You've Earned It**

**Hal's POV**

Steph and I are going to have to have a talk.

A serious talk.

A talk about Trenton branch.

She can't keep doing this to me. She keeps poaching my team! I'm working with Woody and Zip as Ram's and Manny's backups, but Ram and Manny and me, we're a unit. A team. I miss my comrades-in-arms. She can't keep deploying them away from me. I've barely had the fun of having them to myself.

Am I permitted to put the CO on monitor duty?

Can I get away with it?

So far, the Trenton branch is on target to take the number one position as the most profitable branch in the company. I'm not sure what Steph is doing in her management reviews, but considering she already knows all the problems here, I'm sure we'll be last. Which is great; I should have everything fixed before she reviews us. Hopefully. Danny is a sneaky bugger. He gives you just enough information about what she's doing to make you nervous but not enough to give you a clue of what she's actually doing. I'll have to wait until Ram comes home to get all the info.

I have to say, I'm proud of Danny for getting his branch straight. I consider Danny my ally and my competition. His branch might be three times the size of mine, but until he gets all his issues straight Atlanta isn't automatically the most profitable branch. We're neck and neck. One thing we agree on: Whichever XO unseats Mark has the party hosted in his honor. I've asked for no strippers at mine. Candy doesn't like the idea. Since he's married, he agreed. Apparently he's already in the doghouse. He didn't tell his wife, Cindy, how hot Steph is. I had to chuckle at that. Sucker.

Our biggest problem was Steph herself, and since she isn't in the field anymore our bottom line is extremely healthy. Manny and I looked at our projections and decided to bring three more of our contract workers onboard full time. This is great because we also picked up two more bonds offices, one in Philly and one in Newark. The new guys will start out on monitors, like always, while we transition other guys into different departments.

I'm growing my branch. My strategist has brilliant ideas for my pipeline (Javier owes me a** huge** favor) and my liaison is aggressive with our bids so we're growing. My men are doing a great job of filling in any holes and gaps, but still.

She took my men away. That's automatic monitor duty. I'm going to figure out how to get her there somehow.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

This plane can't land fast enough. I spent two great weeks in Atlanta, but I've had enough. I need a break. I'm glad I gave myself a month to show up in NYC. I need some downtime.

The last week in Atlanta was spent conducting the skip tracing workshop again. I still can't believe the response. Every skip tracer in RangeMan Atlanta showed up, even the ones who had attended in Trenton. Every man took notes; some recorded both sessions. They were clear that they wanted me to give them every trick in my head, every path I might take to find someone, every bit of knowledge I had about how to find someone who didn't want to be found.

I'm still in disbelief that this is considered an important skill. A skill worth holding workshops for. And apparently I'm considered an expert. Me. An expert in something. I can't believe it.

We worked through their final three big bonds on Tuesday and captured one of them by Friday morning. They have visual on another and that made the men so happy they took me back to the Busy Bee to celebrate. This time Danny called ahead. They got me on tape, every moan and sigh, and Big Daddy comp'd my entire meal. At first I was embarrassed, but he insisted.

"If Imma spend my life inna kitchen cookin' fa all y'all folk, I damn sure wanna enjoy watchin' someone 'preciate my skillz. Baby, you eat that meatloaf an if'n you want mo', you let Gina know and she'll git you mo'."

Cindy and Nikki thought it was hilarious, and Rose and Sarah looked slightly frightened with the way I put that meatloaf plate away but honestly, it's better than my mother's. Big Daddy grinned and immediately set a slice of Red Velvet Cake in front of me.

None of the men looked comfortable walking back to their cars. Oh well. I had a good meal and left with an entire Red Velvet cake, all for me.

* * *

That afternoon I met with the Atlanta Core Team to discuss the overall review. I had copies of my findings printed and ready when they walked in.

"First, let me say that I have truly enjoyed being here this week. I had a lot of fun, the guys were great, and the food was outstanding. I've already had a slice of my cake."

The guys laughed and Chase groaned.

"You suck. Bobby asked me to let him know how I enjoyed meals with you, and I didn't even realize why my cousin was messin' with me until last week. He's been jokin' on me ever since."

The guys laughed again and I smiled. I thought Chase and Bobby looked similar.

"Sorry, but good food makes me happy."

"Clearly," Adam said, smiling.

"Anyway, I wanted to meet with you guys about the branch review." They immediately sobered up. "Overall, my findings are positive. Because the Bonds Enforcement area is doing so well, the reserves issues have been fixed. Because of that, you've been able to put everything here back on an even keel, which is great. I have no negatives, one suggestion, and one area of concern."

The guys were smiling and taking notes. I passed them copies of the review and watched them leaf through it for a moment.

"Let me hit the high points for you, and then you can take your time and read that. The one area of concern is with Hospitality. I would prefer we continue to pursue bids in the $500,000 and under range for at least six months. Depending on how well we are able to show a profit, you can move up to $1 million for six months and let's see how we do. If all that works out then I'll remove restrictions as long as you can continue to show healthy profits."

Danny was grinning. I could tell that this is exactly what he hoped for.

"Now, for the suggestion, and I'm not sure how you guys will take this, but I am going to suggest the establishment of a Charlotte branch."

The guys' smiles dimmed.

"You spend a lot of time trying to cover Atlanta and Charlotte. I think the creation of this branch will take some pressure off you and allow you to refocus more on things you want to do in Atlanta. However, you've been able to show me where there's plenty of work in Charlotte, so until we can get a separate branch going, I've recommended, and Leadership Core has agreed to it, the creation of a temporary office. I think you should start out by getting this office staffed at half levels to do more 'active' work, like Bonds Enforcement, 'Redecorating' and Hospitality. If you feel you can take it on, then I'm authorizing a massive hiring blitz for RangeMan Atlanta to get that office staffed and get some bids. Any questions?"

The guys looked stunned. I'm making Danny's branch even bigger temporarily. I'm sure he didn't expect this.

"So, we're allowed to scout out office space and hire for the area?" Adam asked.

I nodded. "You'll need to check with Tank and Bobby on the procedures for finding new office space. Don't look for something permanent, although if you find something let Tank and Bobby know. Just get a place established that the men can use to check in and get their work."

The guys made a few notes, smiling and high fiving each other. I smiled; I could tell that they can't wait to get together and talk about the report. One last item.

"Danny, I'm aware that Hector has recommended the creation of a full-scale server farm." Danny nodded, still staring at the report with a small grin on his face. "If Hector thinks it's a good idea, I won't oppose it. So, that's another project for you. He would prefer to keep it close, so you can start looking for office space and men for that. Coordinate with Hector on it. I'll leave him to decide the deployment schedule for this."

The guys were smiling, highlighting things in the report and writing in the margins. They came out of this review really well, and I'm pleased for them.

"Look, I know that this is the first time we've ever done this, so now I'm asking you. What changes do I need to make to this process? What do you think I could have done differently or better?"

I was really interested in the response. This started off as a one-off, since Danny invited me to come review his office, but somehow it has morphed into this major thing within the company. If I have to take this show on the road, I need pointers.

The guys were looking at each other and frowning. I grabbed some water and waited.

Finally, Adam said, "Well, considering how good we look in this report, Steph, I wish we had time to get you in front of the men to discuss it with them before you leave. Knowing that the report is finished and that, you know, this is the recommendation of the CO would really be a boost here. Plus, if the men had any questions they could ask you directly."

Chase nodded. "The men will be pleased to know how well they came out, but I fear your email is going to be overrun by Atlanta guys with questions."

They sat and thought some more, and finally Danny said, "On a personal note, Steph, I wish I'd had more information about your habits and hobbies."

I frowned. I didn't understand what he meant.

Danny smiled. "What I mean is, I know you like flowers, based on what I saw in Trenton, but I didn't know you loved dancing so much until you got here. And shopping and massages and food. It would have helped me plan after hours activities for you to enjoy and relax. You needed the break, and if I'd known that we coulda hit concerts, comedy shows, museums, all sorts of stuff based on what you like. I didn't want you to be bored and, in the words of Hal, a bored lonely Steph is a dangerous Steph."

We all laughed. I'm going to get Hal for that, but Danny's right. I need to send NYC a list of my favorite things to do.

"So if I had a recommendation that would be on the list."

"Good idea. Thanks Danny. Anything else?"

The guys took a few more minutes to think, and finally Chase said, "I think the best part of this review is that no one knew what you were looking for or what you might do. It kept things honest and we know that the findings we have in front of us are true. Danny and I have been reminding our guys to keep their mouths shut and we'll remind them again when you leave. Each branch should get the benefit of this review and, in my opinion, it was not only completely worth it but it was probably the best thing that could've happened here."

"I agree," said Danny. "I would suggest a follow up in a year, so to ensure we're still doing well.

I nodded. "Sounds good. If not, it's been wonderful, and I can't wait to see what you guys accomplish in the next year." I stood up and, instead of shaking my hand, each man hugged me tight. Adam smiled.

"Just so you know, CO, the men here consider you a member of RangeMan Atlanta, so," Adam reached into a bag at his feet and pulled out a black T-Shirt with RM-Atlanta on the back, a black polo with RM Atlanta in black script, and a baseball cap with RM-ATL on the front, "we decided to make sure you rep the branch on your way out."

This was too funny. I walked into the bathroom and changed into the T-Shirt and pulled my hair into a ponytail for the baseball cap. I walked out to applause and boos. Ram and Hector had joined us and they were amused.

"You gotta take that off before you hit the building, Steph," Ram said, laughing, "or the Trenton men will rip it off you. No way you come in our building repping Danny's bunch of losers!"

He repeated this to Hector, who immediately grinned and said, "_Sí, estoy de acuerdo! De ninguna manera te vas a casa llevando eso!_" (Yes, I agree! No way you go home wearing that!)

I caught part of that sentence, which made me grin at Hector. This statement started a war between the Atlanta and Trenton offices. The guys were trash talking each other and I laughed till I cried. Rose joined us and shook her head, smiling.

"Stephanie dahling, it has been a pleasure having you with us. I made some snacks for you to take on the plane. You should be able to get these through security. If you need anything, please call me. I've enjoyed having you here."

I hugged her and thanked her for looking after me for two weeks. The guys were still insulting each other, but they grabbed my suitcases and we hit the elevator. I pressed 5. Danny, Adam, and Chase smiled.

The moment the elevators opened, a loud cheer went up through the Atlanta branch and the men were thrilled. It's 'Pass the CO' all over again and I was hugged by multiple men. A few slapped me on the back, but after I coughed they stopped. I raised my hands for silence.

"I want to say to all of you that I have really enjoyed my time at RangeMan Atlanta. You guys really came through on that down-home Southern hospitality and friendliness." The men cheered and high fived each other. "Danny has the results of the review, which I'm sure he'll share with you, but as you can see, I'm repping RangeMan Atlanta out the door."

This caused the men to cheer even harder. It was starting to look like a true party until Danny raised his hands. He had his blank face on and he looked grim. So did Adam and Chase.

"Men, as the CO stated, we do have the results of the review. We will keep the copies in our offices for you to review if you like, but I would like to give you the CO's overall status and recommendations." He turned to Hector and Ram and motioned for them to leave.

Danny still looked very serious and the men sobered up. Hector and Ram hit the stairs, but Hector turned around and stuck up one finger to indicate they'd wait on 1. I nodded.

"Men, the results of the review are these. We will continue to move forward cautiously with Hospitality contracts, with a graduated scale over the next year." I could see heads nod. Atlanta Core started to grin. "We've been authorized to begin a hiring blitz to support the establishment of a temporary office in Charlotte. Most importantly, we have passed review!"

The cheers were deafening. Again, we played 'Pass the CO' and this time (without Hector's presence) the men felt brave enough to kiss me on the cheeks. I was red from laughing at their exuberance.

"Men, men, I know you all want to hug and kiss Steph again, but we have to get her to Hartsfield. As she said, she's repping RangeMan Atlanta out the door so let's let her do that!" I waved and Danny pushed me back into the elevator and we headed to the airport.

Atlanta is over. NYC is next and I desperately need a break.

* * *

**Hal's POV**

Steph has finally arrived, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Gone from my eyesight for two weeks and she returns in one piece.

Thank you, Lord. I can call Tank the moment she hits 7 and tell him she's safely home.

RMTrenton has been the subject of repeated phone calls from Mrs. Plum, wondering where her daughter is. We're invited to dinner on Sunday, and Mrs. Plum wants to know if Steph is home and what our dietary requirements are.

I passed that call to Ella. We've decided Pod Mom scares us just as much as Granny Mazur.

"Steph!" Thank you, thank you, thank you. Home in one piece. What in the world is she wearing? RangeMan Atlanta? She came home in Danny's swag! Traitor! Just for that, I'm giving you another week of monitor duty.

"Hal! What's up? I'm so glad to be home."

Me too, Steph. I'm glad you're home too. The t-shirt and cap have got to go. "Status normal. Your mother's been calling. Please call her. What are you wearing?"

Steph makes a face at the mention of her mother but starts laughing when I ask about her clothes. She immediately makes a run for the doorway and runs for the elevator. I'm following close behind. I can't believe she made it into the building in Danny's swag! My phone is ringing so I check the display. Mrs. Plum. I hand the phone to Steph, who makes a face at the display. How do I rip that t-shirt off without seeing more than I'm supposed to and without exposing her? Ah well, I guess she wins this time.

"Hi Mom . . . no, I just reached the building . . . I haven't turned my phone on . . . Dinner Sunday? I'll check with the guys . . .Umm . . .well, Jase, one of the Atlanta guys taught me how to tail someone and how to set up a tail. . ."

Really? I add that to my mental list of skills to test her on.

"Yes, Mom, there were lots of nice handsome guys in Atlanta . . . but they're mostly married men. . ."

I thought Danny said his branch was full of single guys?

"Hi Daddy! . . . no, the trip went really well . . . I came back with RangeMan Atlanta swag. . ."

Is there more than what I see? All of it has gotta go. No way I ever let Steph rep Danny's bunch of losers around me after this. She's ours.

"OK, Daddy, I'll tell him." Steph covers the phone and tugs my shirt. "Daddy says to tell you thank you for the smokes, and he wouldn't mind lighting up if you guys can balance the estrogen at dinner sometime soon."

I like Mr. Plum. That kind of statement might get a few volunteers to brave a Plum family dinner, and I make a mental note to get some more cigars. We've been sending a box every two weeks since the 'Announcement Dinner'.

The man called out Ranger and lived. That deserved some kind of prize.

"How many needed?"

Steph repeats the question to her father. "5-6 would be nice. It tips the scales 2-1."

"I'll do what I can." I immediately type out a request on my phone. I get eight responses back. The oddity of the last two Plum family dinners has caused curiosity. Every man wants to see it for himself.

We've entered the 7th floor apartment and Ella is there to welcome Steph and get her settled in. While they catch up, I call Tank.

"Hal?"

"Sir. CO home safe and sound, sir."

"10-4." _Click_.

I grab a water for Steph and take it back to the bedroom. Time to execute my plan.

"Steph?"

"Hmm…" She's started unpacking, and I can see the RMAtlanta stuff. It'll be burned before the sun comes up.

"I need some help." This statement immediately gets her attention.

"Whatcha need, Hal?"

"I know you want to stay out of the day-to-day operation of the branch, but I need someone to fill in some spots for me over the next week. We have new guys in the branch, but with the rest of the Core Leadership team here gone, I need to get them acclimated and prepped. So, can you cover these assignments?" I hand her the list. It's all her least favorite things: monitor duty, security installs (this isn't considered field work), range duty, and searches.

Hehe. I have a bet going with Manny over whether or not I can manage it. Steph is frowning at the list.

"Hal, this is all the stuff I hate the most."

I know Steph, but you've earned this. You came home in Atlanta swag and you sent my men away. Bring my men back! "It's just for a week, Steph, and it's not much. It would really help me. Please?"

Steph sighs. Magic word strikes again. I'm in like Flynn! "You owe me."

Yes! I'm thrilled, but I don't lose the blank face. I nod instead. "10-4. You aren't going to keep deploying my men away from me are you?"

Steph narrows her eyes. "Is this what this list is about?" she demands, waving the list.

"No." Yes! "I need those roles filled, and it'll give you a chance to sit with these guys and assess them. See if they're right for their roles. Plus, I know we need to teach you how to assess and wire a security system. That's the only reason I put that one on the list."

Just a bit of truth to make this go down smooth.

I put the CO on monitor duty.

I put the **CO** on monitor duty.

No one will **ever** believe me.

* * *

**A/N: Side Story: ****Girls Night Out**** goes up tomorrow.**


	32. RangeMan Standards

**Chapter 32: RangeMan Standards**

**Steph's POV**

My return from Atlanta was confusing. Immediately upon arrival, Hal presented me with a list of duties that he claimed needed coverage. My spidey-senses were calling that one false. After four days of mind-numbing monitor duty, I promised him that the next time I sent anyone anywhere, he would know well in advance. I think he was upset about the fact that I sent Manny to NYC and Ram wouldn't return until Friday. On Friday, I received another bouquet of yellow roses and Ram returned, so Hal was happy again.

Friday morning, I wheel myself down to 5 and run right into Hal. He grins. "Wanna get out for a while?"

You kidding me? I immediately go in search of Hector, to let him know where I'm going. He nods and I meet Hal in the garage.

"Where are we going?" I ask. I don't really care. I'm getting out of the office.

"Bonds run. I'll make Vinnie's last."

Yes! Finally, a chance to get out and see other people. "I thought you intended to hand this over to Bonds Enforcement."

"I understand now. If I do the bonds run, I'm guaranteed to get out the building at least once a day."

We pull up to Vinnie's an hour later with fresh doughnuts. I've already eaten one and Hal is twitching. I walk through the bond's office door victoriously.

"Doughnuts! Hey! Good grief, you can have the box."

Lula and Connie run directly at me and grab the box. They tear into it, grabbing the jelly-filled and glazed doughnuts and leaving me two Boston Creams. I sit on the couch with my doughnut and savor the taste. Creamy filling, chocolate glaze, delicious fried dough. Heaven.

"Well, there's a sound I haven't missed." Vinnie, looking more like a ferret than usual.

"Hey, Vinnie. How's Lucille?" I smile.

Vinnie glares at me. What? Just because I don't work for you anymore doesn't mean the blackmail goes away, Vinnie.

"What are you doing here?" Vinnie grumbles. "Don't you have a security company to run? You know, after abandoning your cousin and leaving him bleeding money?" Melodramatic as always.

"Oh, shut it Vinnie. I had to get a job. Unless you're paying workman's comp these days?" The door slams and Lula, Connie, and I laugh. Hal has a tiny smile. The other guy in the room just stares at me.

"Sorry, he's been a little touchy lately," Connie winks. I heard about Vinnie's unhappiness with his new employee. "Steph, this is David Pickens. David, this is our former BEA, Stephanie Plum. She's Vinnie's cousin."

"Nice to meet you." I receive a nod in reply. I look back at Connie. "So what's going on here? Anything new?"

Connie reaches into the box for another doughnut. Lula is already working on her third. "Well, there's not a lot going on. Mooner's FTA again and Eula."

"Oh, I'll pick them up. I miss Mooner. What's on marathon today?" I reach over to grab the TV Guide when David's voice cuts me off at the knees.

"No, I think not, Ms. Plum. **I'll** pick up my skips. I don't need your help."

I sit back, dumbfounded. "Sorry, it's just . . . they were my regulars. I went to school with Mooner. I've known Eula for ages—"

"And I don't really care about all that. They're my skips now and I'll pick them up. Unless you want to talk about letting me handle some of the high bonds, don't come dipping in my patch."

The entire office has gone quiet. David picks up his stack of FTAs and leaves.

The rest of the visit is quiet. Everyone is a little surprised by David's attitude, except Hal. Once in the SUV, Hal passes me his handkerchief. I'm not crying, but I feel hurt.

"Don't blame him." Hal is tapping on his phone.

I look at Hal. "What?"

"I don't blame him."

"What do you mean, you don't blame him? That was rude, and mean. I mean, jeez, he acted as if I committed a federal crime saying I'd pick up Mooner."

"You were threatening his paycheck. What would you have said a few months ago?"

Ouch. Hal is right. I would have been just as mean, especially since most BEAs in the business are a lot faster, smarter and cleaner than me.

"RangeMan SOPs Steph: Never volunteer to pick up a skip you aren't assigned. You never know which BEA is assigned to that skip, and we like to keep friendly relations with all BEAs in our area."

Good point. The guys never volunteered to pick my skips up for me. They always offered me assistance. Time to change the subject.

"Why am I in the driver's seat?" This is a first.

"Driving lessons. Or, driving evaluation. Jase taught you how to spot and evade a tail?" I nod. "Well, we may or may not have a tail back to the building. If so, evade. If not, establish with certainty."

I grin. OK, this is a great pick-me-up. First, I get to drive. Second, I get to drive. Third, well, you get the idea.

I set off from the bonds office to Haywood. The drive is normally about 10 minutes, but I keep searching for a tail. I didn't see any black SUVs, but I do see a red one.

I recognize the red one. Time to take defensive maneuvers.

I think back to everything Jase taught me.

"_Step one: Establish with certainty that you have a tail. Perform a cleaning sweep."_ I'm fairly certain I know who's in the red SUV.

"_Step 1a: Make a U-Turn. If you really do have a tail, they'll be forced to make a U-Turn with you."_

U-Turns in this part of Jersey are illegal, well, left hand turns. All turns are done from the right lane, so someone doing a left turn here is either (a) a tourist or (b) Mob. I hit a quick left turn towards Route 1 and the red SUV follows. At this point, Hal looks worried. He's typing messages on his phone and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"_Step 1b: Slow down to a crawl. You'll piss off everyone around you and they'll go around you, but your tail will slow down to follow you."_

So far, Jase has not been wrong. The red SUV slows down right along with me and everyone is honking at both of us. Now Hal has picked up the tail and is shaking his head with a small smile. He taps something else on his phone.

"_Step 1c: Park, use your mirrors to check to see if they park, then pull out slowly._

I pull into a shopping mall and park, backing in like Jase taught me. The SUV parks down from us. I can see the red hair from here.

Hal smiles. "How did you pick up on Joyce?"

"Is she my test?"

"Nope. I was going to have Junior do it. Now, he's tailing her watching us both. High entertainment value in this." Hal chuckles. Great! I picked up on a tail Hal didn't even see.

"_Evasion._ _Step one: Determine if it's safer to evade then move to safety or to head straight to safety."_

"_I don't understand that, Jase."_

"_Well, in some cases you want to shake your tail, especially if you aren't headed directly to safety or you don't want your tail to know where you're going. Other times, it's safer to head directly for safety. For example, if you know the person following you has a good idea of where you might be headed, shake 'em if you can. But if you're being shot at, get in the left lane and head for safety while calling ahead for backup."_

"_Left lane?"_

_Jase looks at me. "If they shoot the driver, it's lights out for everyone in the car. Never allow a shooter access to the driver."_

_Ah. "Good Point._"

Well, I'm sure my current tail has a good idea of all the places I could go and I doubt she'll shoot, so we'll evade.

"_Step two: Map out your route in advance. Don't turn blindly; you'll only get lost like that. And don't rely on GPS. They'll get you turned around fast if you're not careful. __**Always**__ have an up-to-date map in the car."_

OK, considering where I could go.

"_Step 3a: Hit the highway. You can go faster on highways than you can on surface streets. It's a misconception that you should hit surface streets. That's actually stupid. If you're going to run a tail, you rarely run one solo. The best tails are done with three or more cars, so you can actually get boxed in on surface streets. Best thing to do is get on the highway, travel in the left lane, then, with about ¼ mile to go, cut across all lanes of traffic to an exit. Hard as hell to anticipate that. Once you've done it, pull back onto the highway in the opposite direction, go up one exit, and exit the highway again. Anyone still tailing you at this point is sweating bullets that you'll pull that stunt again."_

I consider what Jase said. It will take too long to hit 295 or the Garden State Parkway, and Route 1 is a traffic nightmare. I'll stay on Route 1 and use box turns.

"_Step 3b:_ _If you can't make the highway and you're on a street known for being a traffic nightmare, like most of Atlanta, then start evasive techniques. Make what I call 'box turns', or three turns that lead you right back to the original street. If you do that, chances are you're going to confuse a three-car tail because they'll have to get off the original street to set up the tail on following streets."_

It's only Joyce, so this sounds like a winner. I pull out onto Route 1 and head north, towards Princeton. Once there, I turn on my signal as if to turn into QuakerBridge Mall but shoot past it to the jughandle leading across the street. Another right and I zoom toward WalMart and turn into their parking lot, but keep going to the small exit behind it leading back to Route 1 and Trenton. I can see Joyce leaning over her steering wheel. She was stopped by pedestrians in the WalMart parking lot.

Hal is laughing his head off.

"Do I still need to evade Junior?"

"Nah. I think you've got it down. Good job."

I look in the rearview. "Where is Junior?"

"Stuck behind Joyce." He checks his phone. "Might want to move it. He says she's gunning for you."

"Nah. Let's head back to the bonds office. Whatever she wants, she can't get this time."

Hal taps the message into his phone and I head back to the bonds office. We walk back inside and Connie and Lula look up, confused.

"Back so soon?" Connie asks.

"Joyce was tailing me. I figure she'll either come here or go home, but whatever it is she wants, I want to get it over with now. I'm not going to have her dogging me for weeks."

Connie and Lula laugh and Hal smirks. We all sit down and get comfortable, waiting for her. Within minutes, the smell of sulfur precedes her through the door.

She walks in, smirking. "Cute. I see the men have finally taught you how to drive."

I count to 20 in my head. Since I'm not actually responding to her, it throws her. Hector was right.

Lesson from Hector: "_Not everything requires a response, Angelita. Sometimes, people are just waiting on your response, just waiting for you to blow up so they feel free to start yelling at you. Example: You and The Cop __at any of your incident scenes. You want respect? Don't engage, especially when dealing with the stubborn, hot-headed men in this company. My silence is scarier than half the things I actually say."_

I realized he had a point. Ranger can scare people merely by looking at them. I don't know how well I have this skill down, but I can practice it now.

My silence is confusing everyone. Even Vinnie has poked his head out of his office. Junior walks in and takes a seat on my other side.

Joyce sneers. "So I see that they're really trying to teach you to be a 'RangeMan'," she says, with finger quotes. "When do you get the blank face and the muscles? Gonna learn to be competent at your job?"

The other thing Hector taught me? Count to 20 before responding.

Joyce is really confused, and I'm happy. For the first time in my life, Joyce can't take anything away from me. I have nothing she can steal. Ranger and Joe are both gone, I live at RangeMan, I don't have a car, and I don't have a casserole.

"Shame. I'll let Alan Watkins know that his favorite storyline is going away."

Alan Watkins is the asshole at the Trenton Gazette that nicknamed me the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter,' and he's the one that always shows up at my scenes. I wondered how he knew what he did about me. Mystery solved and it explains why most of it was unflattering.

"You know, when I first read the press release that you had been hired by RangeMan, I laughed. You aren't competent at what you do now, so why bother? Then I realized how great it was. For years, you've laughed at me, calling me Vinnie's pet, but what are you? You're Ranger's pet. I might not be the best BEA, but at least I know how to do the job. You? As a Managing Director? Please. Ranger just made that job up so you'd have something to do while your leg healed. And you broke it because you can't even do the BEA job right."

Joyce laughs, and I can't wait for her to finish. I'm going to kill her. I can tell Hal and Junior are ready to break her. She just stands there, looking smug, waiting for me to say something.

"You're right, Joyce. If Ranger was looking for a job to give me, he didn't have to make me the Managing Director." Her smile gets bigger. "I've worked for Ranger numerous times in the past four years, doing stuff all over his company. Apparently, I'm the best person in the entire company at research, so he could have just made me the head of the Research Department, but no, he didn't. As a matter of fact, it wasn't his decision to name me Managing Director because he's been off on assignment for weeks. I was named Managing Director by his partners in the business. So, we aren't the same. You're still Vinnie's pet, and I got my job on merit. And I didn't have to quack for it."

Joyce stops smiling and waits. When it's clear I'm not going to say anything else, she shoots me the finger and walks out.

Vinnie shakes his head and walks back into his office. Once he's gone, Connie and Lula break into hysterical laughter while Hal and Junior squeeze my hands.

* * *

Hal drives back to Haywood, chuckling every few minutes. When I walk onto 5, every man stands up and cheers. Woody approaches with a bouquet of red roses.

"CO, that was some mighty fine driving. Who taught you that?"

I grin. The flowers are lovely, and the guys really do enjoy giving them to me. "Jase."

That gets a few boos and Hal smiles. He raises his hand, and the floor gets quiet.

"Men, we are falling down on the job. The CO has had to learn her skills from Danny's rag tag bunch of misfits. Time for us to step it up. Let's get a schedule going and turn the CO into a complete baddie. Besides, she just took the Red-Headed Demon down in one statement. You should have heard it."

"We did," Benny yells. "Junior had his phone on." I glare at Junior while the men cheer.

Junior shrugs. "Either you were going to put her in her place or she was going to give us a reason to give her four flats. Either way, it was going to be interesting."

I consider that and nod. I have 40 big brothers. Hot, sweet, lethal big brothers.

I take my bouquet into my office. The guys have really been sweet about presenting me with flowers, and I hadn't realized how much I enjoyed receiving them until they started arriving.

The phone rings. "Hello?"

"Steph!"

"Hey Danny! What's up?"

"A little birdie told me that you managed to evade a life-long enemy on the mean streets of New Jersey." I can hear the cheer from Atlanta through my phone and I start laughing.

"Hal didn't even let me get comfortable in my office before he told you!"

"Actually, he texted me while you were evading someone called 'Joyce' that Jase had done a good job. You evaded a real tail while searching for the tail he set up. Nice work, CO!"

"Hey Steph?"

"Yes, Jase?"

"How did you ditch her?"

"Box turns on Route 1. It would have been out of the way to hit a highway."

Jase whistles. "Nice job. Congratulations!"

"Thanks! I owe you one, Jase." _Click_.

RangeMan phone manners. I'm putting together the seminar. SOPs will be modified.

I reconsider my decision later when the white roses from Atlanta arrive. Hal brings them to me, looking disgruntled. "I'm only allowing these into my building because they're for you and they're flowers."

I grin and call Ella to bring me a bigger vase. We spend time arranging my flowers and she snaps a picture.

"To commemorate. We'll put this up outside so the men can see you've learned a new skill. Maybe we can get an entire wall filled!"

I like the sound of that.

* * *

Later that night, I think more about the conversation with Hector. I was a little surprised when he decided to teach me a new skill during my lonely nights in Atlanta.

_Flashback in Italics_

_Hector sets up a huge mirror in front of me and we sit down._

"_Today, Angelita, I will teach you about the blank face."_

_This is a wasted lesson, Hector. I'll never master this._

_Hector merely gazes at me, and I realize that he's turned his own blank face on me._

"_What can you tell me about my blank face?"_

_I study Hector's face. "Well, it's not like Ranger's. You have this scary smile going." I smile, but Hector doesn't change facial expression. "You look, I dunno…" I want to say Hector looks like a psychopath, but . . . I don't want to open that line of questioning._

_Hector's face relaxes. "I look like a psychopath. I look demented, scary, slightly unstable. If I relax it slightly, I look amused, like I'm humoring you." I nod. Yes, that's Hector's face exactly. "I have two blank faces, based on the situation and the people I'm around. I use one if I intend to intimidate or scare someone. The other is the public face, if I simply need to mask my emotions around others."_

_Hector sits me in front of the mirror and begins shuffling a deck of cards. "I will teach you the way Ranger taught me. Pretend we are playing poker. I will deal you hands of cards. Your job is not to give away your hand on your face. This lesson will not be easy at first, but use the mirror to study your face. Make notes about the way your face moves, any tics you have, until you can control them. Understand that you may need to develop two faces, as I have, in order to make this work."_

_Hector deals the first hand, but before I can turn the cards over, Hector pins me with a fierce look and covers the cards. "You __**will**__ master this. This is not going to be a wasted lesson. You will master this because you are a woman in this company. You are a woman in charge of a lot of hot-headed men. You need to control the situation instead of allowing them to control you. You are doing well here in Atlanta, but Miami and Boston are not Atlanta."_

_I sigh and pick up the cards. "Hector, I'm not saying that it's a wasted lesson, well, not really. It's just that I'm Italian. I can't help it—" the rest of my response is cut off by an angry Hector._

"_Mierda! Your Italian roots have __**nothing**__ to do with this. You think I don't understand what it's like to have heated blood running through my veins? Stephanie, I'm Latino! Ranger is Latino! Lester is Latino! You have seen __**nothing**__ of Ranger's temper, nor Lester's, but I have. You have seen nothing of __**my**__ temper; you've only heard the rumors. We all have the hot blood of our Latin roots running through our veins, but you __**must**__ learn to control it!"_

_Hector takes a deep breath and I'm stunned. Hector hasn't been this mad at me since the black pillowcase incident, and he __**never**__ calls me Stephanie unless he's angry. This feels like another pillowcase. I better listen closely._

"_I apologize for speaking so forcefully at you, but I want you to take this lesson seriously," Hector says quietly. "Not everything requires a response, Angelita. Sometimes, people are just waiting on your response, just waiting for you to blow up so they feel free to start yelling at you. Example: You and The Cop __at any of your incident scenes. You want respect? Don't engage, especially when dealing with the stubborn, hot-headed men in this company. My silence is scarier than half the things I actually say."_

_I consider what Hector has said. "Why is this lesson so important to you? Why start teaching me now?"_

_Hector deals himself a hand and puts his blank face into place. "I knew Atlanta would be a good trip for you. Danny has long been the only XO in the company I like and trust, even with the issues at his branch. For me to trust anyone is a mark of respect that I don't give lightly. However, you are now headed into the difficult trips with men who will be determined to wait until I'm no longer at your back to attempt to hurt you, to make you cry. You have a very expressive face; they'll know when they've hurt you and they'll continue to dig. And I know you. I know you will not want to tell me that they've hurt you because you fear my response. So I do what I must now in order to prepare you."_

_I study the hand in front of me. It's shit. _

"_Your hand is clearly shit," Hector says. I look up in surprise. "Your eyebrows and lips gave it away. Use the mirror, Angelita. Observe your face."_

_Hector spends two hours with me, teaching me to read my face. He's able to determine when I have good hands, OK hands, and really bad hands. By the time the first two hours are over, I'm able to control my eyebrows._

"_How long do you think it will take to learn to do this?"_

"_We'll practice this daily until you've got it down. You have to learn to manage your face." Hector smiles, then his smile turns devious. "Have you thought of turning your blank face on Ranger?"_

_Now, there's a thought. I __**hate**__ Ranger's blank face. _

"_Ranger does not have ESP. You have a very expressive face, and he knows your thought patterns. It's easy to determine what you're thinking, and it's the reason every man in Trenton can read you. Can you imagine what it would be like to make Ranger __**work**__ for a response from you?" Hector chuckles. "Ranger might actually have to __**talk**__. You might get more out of him than 'Babe'. My brother would not know what to do with himself."_

_Of all the things Hector could have said, this is the one to make me interested in learning this skill. Turning a blank face on Ranger? Forcing him to __**talk**__? I'd love to try! I turn to Hector. _

"_One more hour?"_

* * *

The guys took Hal's challenge literally. Over the next week, I had more driving lessons with Woody and Benny. Ram got me back into the range. I still don't like guns, but being down there with Ella and Luis is great.

Luis is a great shot. He enjoys the fun of having a gun to carry and being skilled with it. The first day I returned to the range, Luis wasn't there. Wild Turkey hunting season had just opened in New Jersey and Luis was excited. Ella told me that, shortly after Ram certified him on a rifle and helped him get his permit, Luis started hunting. Turkey, duck, deer, rabbit, nothing is safe during hunting season.

"I mean, I had to learn how to clean those things, and I finally told him, you kill it, **you** clean it! I thought that would cut down on the number of animals I would have to deal with, but with the RangeMen to egg him on, it just means they get together for shooting parties! Ram is the worse. They'll come home with pounds of fresh meat and they look so proud." Ella shuddered. "Reminds me of a cat we once had. He would bring a fresh mouse to the doorstep and look so proud, as if he were saying, _See Mommy, I bring you meat!_ They look just like that. Cavemen!"

I was imaging this and feeling queasy.

"Um … Ella, what happens to all that meat?"

"Oh, I cook it up in stew and sausage, but I don't want to see faces. I don't want to look into the eyes of the poor creature they killed."

I agreed with that. The next time we were all in the range, I couldn't concentrate on the target. I was seeing Bambi's mother on the target.

"You OK, Steph?" Luis asks.

I look at him and start crying. "You killed Bambi's mother!" I wail and Luis looks confused. I can see Ella cringe, then grin.

Luis takes me by the shoulders and leads me to a chair. Ram moves to join us, but Luis waves him off.

"I may have killed Bambi's mother, but not for sport." I sniff and look at Luis, who is very serious. "I do not kill for sport, as so many people do. I kill for food only. I assume Ella has told you about what we do during hunting season."

I nod. Completely barbaric.

"Then you should know that we only kill what we can eat. And although my beautiful wife hates it, we make sure she never sees faces. We skin and dress our haul while in the field and we package it there too. I do not hold with sport killing, Stephanie. And since I have learned to hunt, I have more respect for the animals I eat. I know what it takes to bring down an animal of that size and weight. I respect the Thanksgiving turkey much more. Tell me, Stephanie, what goes into your meatballs for your meatball sub?"

Uh oh. I don't like where this is headed.

"Ummm …beef?"

"Anything else?"

"I hope not."

Luis grins. "Exactly. When my wife makes meatballs, I know exactly what is in them because we buy entire sides of beef and I use my new handy-dandy RangeMan knife skills to cut that cow into steaks and stew meat and bits for her to grind. Ram, come here."

Ram approaches and sits on my other side.

"Ram, how much meat do you eat on a regular basis?" Luis asks.

I watch Ram consider the question. "Not much. I mean, Special Forces training kinda knocks the meat cravings out of you. A good steak is something to be savored."

I consider what Ram just said. If that's true, that explains why Ranger doesn't eat a lot of meat. I see Ram smile.

"I bet I know what you're thinking Steph, and you're right. Ranger training is grueling. Even the best prepared men drop 25-35 pounds off their already prime and fit frames, which is why I never signed up for Ranger school. You learn to operate after skipping meals and being forced to eat well under an appropriate amount. By the time you're done with Ranger school, you only consider food in relation to the energy it will give you, not enjoyment. That's why the RangeMan dietary requirements are what they are. What we eat has to be of the highest quality, which is why we're largely organic and free-range around here."

"Yeah, but you have to admit, you enjoy hunting."

Ram grins. "Yes, I do but only because I have a free moving target. Otherwise, I see hunting as fulfilling a basic need, that of nourishment. People who never learn to hunt or camp are dependent on a grocery store, a chain, for nourishment. If Stop and Shop went out of business tomorrow, if every grocery store went out of business tomorrow, I wouldn't starve. I could still eat. I could hunt my own meat and identify the right plants for nourishment. Besides the self-protection angle, that's my reason to stay in the range. I could feed myself if something happened."

Luis nods and I consider their statements. No thanks. Somewhere, I can find a Twinkie or a Tastykake. They'll survive the apocalypse.


	33. Communication Difficulties

**A/N: This chapter begins on Wednesday and ends on Friday night.**

* * *

**Chapter 33: Communication Difficulties**

**Steph's POV**

Today is officially the beginning of my third month in charge. Ryan tells me that in the past two months, the company has grown 3.5% and is poised for more growth, which is making the accountants happy. Turns out, he and Danny are really close (Finance guys!) and Danny tells me that Ryan's told his staff to quit leaking info or he'll fire them. He wants everyone in the company to wonder about what I'm doing, and it works better if they don't realize that I'm succeeding like I am.

"Is nothing sacred in this company?" I groused to Danny last week.

"Nope." I could hear the smile in Danny's voice. "You gotta remember, company info flows from Miami up to everyone else, and the only real company info that everyone's interested in now is the numbers. That's Ryan's group, and he's nervous about getting his group straight before you come to review them."

"Why? Does he think I'll fire him?"

Danny was quiet for a moment. "You should always remember to keep the threat in your arsenal. If they think there's a possibility that the CO will fire them for non-compliance with her wishes, then they'll work to get their areas cleaned up before you get there. Besides, you said yourself: The amount of gossip in this company is dangerous. It's not good for the Miami guys to always be able to just drop in on the accountants and get information they aren't supposed to have access to. That's also how info gets up to Boston. You should treat those incidents like a leak. Ryan knows better. It's what we were taught in school."

Really? My next call, with Ryan, was much more interesting.

"I hear chatter that the company's grown 3.5%."

I could hear Ryan smile. "Yeah, it has. I can't wait to see what happens in NYC. I know Tank and Lester told me the goal was 6% before they left for Texas, but I think you'll hit 6% before the six month mark."

Good, but not the purpose of the call.

"Ryan, I **hear chatter** that the company's grown 3.5%."

The line was quiet. Ryan was thinking over the emphasis. "Message received and understood, Steph. I'll handle it."

"Thank you."

Hal came to my office two days later with something wrapped up. I smelled saturated fats, sugar, and fruit and I hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. I looked at it suspiciously and he grinned.

"Special delivery from Accounting. Ella creation."

I grinned and tore into the box. It was a 6" Pineapple Upside down cake. I frowned and slumped back in the chair, tears in my eyes. There's no way I'm going to be allowed to eat this. I looked up at Hal, who had two forks in his hand and looked confused by my disappointment. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and passed it to me.

'_CO,_

_All staff have been briefed on the importance of keeping their mouths shut and information locked down. All passwords have been changed. Will brief you on the change in security protocols during our next call._

_Ryan_

_PS: Pineapple Upside-Down cake is a lightened recipe from Martha Stewart, further reengineered by Ella Guzman to meet RangeMan dietary restrictions. _ _Hal said this was your favorite but that I should make sure it met requirements. I wouldn't dare tease you like that__.'_

I looked at Hal, who grinned. "I love you, Hal." Hal blushed. "Please tell me we can eat this."

Hal nodded. "I didn't shut the door for nothing."

We ate half the cake in one sitting. It was great, like everything Ella makes.

* * *

Atlanta Bonds Enforcement has done so well in the two weeks since I left that Zip is grumbling that I need to hold a workshop for the Trenton guys. In his opinion, I taught Atlanta too much. I was **their** secret weapon, he grumbled, and they never should have shared my talents with anyone. Trenton and Atlanta ended Month 2 tied at 96%, so I agreed to hold a Trenton workshop.

A chocolate chip cookie was left on my desk hours later, with a note. 'It's a healthy cookie.' I was tempted not to eat it on principle, but I dug out a chocolate chip. Tasted the same, so I ate the cookie. I felt great for days.

I wonder what I'm being bribed for.

Atlanta and Trenton have developed a great rivalry between them, and I can see that Hal and Danny are really good friends and colleagues. I'm glad; I know Hal was nervous about being the new guy and knowing he has support has boosted his confidence yet again. They're in a race to see who can knock Mark off his perch first, and I told the guys that whoever wins, I will fund the party. Boston has been in the lead for almost four years and Mark needs a little more humbling.

Hal blushed deep red and said that he and Danny had agreed not to have strippers at the party. Ram and Zip looked ready to crawl under the table laughing. I wonder what happened.

Lester calls me twice a week to catch up. He's bored out in Texas and misses our gossip sessions. Thursday's call starts off amusing. He and Bobby are back on the prowl, and Lester's had to buy a new black book. He likes the old-fashioned feel of women on paper. Bobby's putting his women into his phone. I'm shaking my head. Tank's pretending that he doesn't miss Lula, but it's clear he does.

"How can you tell?"

Les laughs. "Tank's on the mats every day, sometimes twice a day. The longer we've been out here, the worse he's been. I get the idea that she's not answering her phone or talking to him."

"What? I thought he wasn't calling her?" I'm stunned. Lula's just as bad.

"Oh, he's calling her. At least twice a week and sometimes more. Why? Is Lula saying he isn't calling?"

I think about this. Something is going on between the two of them. "No. She refuses to talk about it."

Lester is quiet. I can almost hear his shrug. "OK. Well, I'll let you know when he stops calling her on my end."

I fill him in on Trenton and Atlanta's gossip, and he fills me in on everything else he's hearing. The biggest thing he's hearing: The men of the company are shaking in their boots over this 'Management Review' program. Armando and Mark have called to speak to Tank repeatedly about whether or not my findings are being acted on at Leadership Core level. That pisses me off.

Lester laughs. "Beautiful, take it as a compliment. Whatever you're doing is making all the men nervous. They realize that you're not just a pretty face, that there are some skills and abilities behind those big blue eyes."

"Still," I grumble, "you'd think that they would assume that what their boss does is important. Ranger gave me his authority, and you guys made it clear you backed it up. Why do they assume that I'm not in charge?"

"Because it is change and you're a woman. It will take time for them to understand and respect the fact that what you say goes. I'm more curious about what's going on in NYC."

I frown. "Why?"

"Well, you know the place is leak central. Bobby gets constant reports from Liam about everything going on. Apparently, your decision to send Diego and Manny there went down like a ton of bricks on the place. The men are in revolt."

That's what I'm hearing from Hal, but not Javier. Interesting. "Why?"

"Well, the men were loyal to Shane and Liam so they aren't happy about this decision. Plus, Manny may have taken Liam to the mats for no good reason, so that's causing a problem."

"Are you sure Liam doesn't just have a grudge against Manny? I mean, if Manny and Liam met on the mats, there had to be a good reason for it. Plus, Javier would have called me if Manny overstepped his authority."

"You sure about that?" Lester asks. "Javier might keep quiet to avoid pissing you off, considering you're attempting to save his ass right now."

Good point. I pull a legal pad and start writing notes. I can see it's going to be one of those calls.

"I promised Manny that I would allow him and Diego time to fully assess the branch and Javier before I asked for any feedback. I'm hearing the same stuff you're telling me from Hal and Danny, but not Javier, Manny, or Diego. So, I'm wondering why I haven't heard from Javier or Diego if Manny were a problem more than a help. My spidey senses are tingling that someone is lying but I don't know who."

Lester is silent. "When is Manny scheduled to give you an assessment?"

"Saturday."

"OK. Hold off until then and see what Manny has to say. He may have an explanation for the confusion. Otherwise, all I hear is that the pipeline is busted, Manny and Diego don't have much hope of fixing it, and Javier has to go."

Same thing I'm hearing from Hal and Danny but my spidey senses are still tingling. "OK, well, what do you want me to do with the NYC office if that's true?"

Lester sighs. "I've started creating contingency plans, but the first thing will be to fire all management. Javier, Liam, Shane in Miami, and the heads of monitoring, client services, and bonds enforcement. They all have to go. If they weren't fucking up, the branch wouldn't be at the wire, so off with their heads."

I make a note. A mass firing of six to seven people. "Wouldn't that kill confidence and morale?"

"Yeah. Which means that I may need to leave Texas and oversee the fix myself. Tank and Bobby will have my ass because it'll mean they have to split the duties here. But that's all I can think of."

"Would you consider putting me or another XO in charge?"

I can hear Les shift in his seat. "Not really. I need you assessing the entire company, and I've seen the reports. Two months in and 3% growth means I'm not moving you anywhere, Beautiful. I want you to keep doing what you're doing. I don't want to put Mark in charge in NYC. I might move Pat there, but three strategists at one branch might be overkill." Les sighs and is quiet for a minute. "I can't wait to hear the results of this assessment. If your spidey senses are ringing that someone is lying and we have an unfixable pipeline there, it may need the both of us in NYC to investigate and start the rebuild. Yeah, on second thought I might need you to move to NYC for a while and oversee the company from there."

I grimace. I don't know the NYC guys, but what I hear isn't great. Plus, Hal might have a fit. Hal thinks of himself as my big brother and biggest protector, behind Hector. He won't be happy not having me in sight.

Hector will definitely have a problem with that fix.

"Where is the NYC office?"

"Brooklyn. Near Prospect Heights, with a satellite office in each borough except Manhattan."

_Sigh_. Not even Manhattan or a cool part of Brooklyn. I hope this situation isn't as bad as it seems.

"Me too, Beautiful, but Prospect Heights is a hot area of town now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're thinking of the place 20 years ago. It's completely different now."

I sniff. "Well, what's going on in Texas? How is the branch coming along?"

"We finally found an appropriate building, and we're working to get it rehabbed and outfitted properly. Took long enough and I'm glad property out here is cheap. Hell, land is cheap but water and mineral rights?" Les whistles. "Jesus, I thought one of us might have to promise a newborn child to get those. Every location in Texas was like that. Negotiating for land was separate from negotiating for water and minerals. I'm glad Tank is a stickler for that kind of thing."

"I don't get it. Why is that important?"

"Oil, Beautiful. If they ever find oil or any other precious material on our land, we want the rights. May never happen, but it's best to negotiate into the cost of the land purchase."

"Oh. OK. Well, tell me about the location."

"Well, the building is 9 floors, 70K sq. ft., marble and wood throughout. A former bank, so it's very classy." Lester drawls the last part, which makes me laugh. "Took forever to find the place but it's a great location, and we have some rehab to do but it's perfect." Lester laughs. "It's zoned correctly and comes with a safe, fully tinted bullet-proof glass and security wiring already installed. Bobby is in heaven. This place means there's a lot less paperwork for him to do."

They've started a real hiring blitz in San Antonio and there are now 60 RangeMen at RM San Antonio. Lester reports that he is finally starting to see some unity in the group and it's encouraging. He thought he might have to fire everyone he hired before they got the idea.

* * *

Hal has been reporting the results of my progress on standards to Bobby, who can't wait to talk about it.

"Bomber, I'm thrilled! I hear you're clocking the minimums for sit-ups and pushups. Great job! I'm proud of you."

It's not 'Proud of you, Babe,' but it's close enough.

"Well, Sarah and I are getting along better. Hector scares her, so she's doing her best to make it fun for me now. She brought a rowing machine in the other week." I can hear Bobby stifle a laugh. "Yeah, sneaky machine. I was rowing along for 20 minutes, wondering when it would become a workout before I realized my arms and shoulders were burning." Bobby chuckles. "So, when she doesn't make it fun, she gives me sneaky exercises. She still sucks." Lester and Bobby start laughing.

I don't really mean this and Bobby knows it. Sarah and I are getting along a lot better now. I guess I'm just getting used to having her around. Plus, she finally started changing the workout schedule. I got a gym membership so I could have access to a pool and we now swim and do water aerobics three times a week.

The men started a list to determine who was allowed to accompany us to the pool. Even though it means waking up extra early and having us there by 6AM, there's no shortage of volunteers. Sarah immediately traded in the ugly one-piece swimsuits for daring bikinis and the men definitely appreciate it. We appreciate their willingness to wear short swim trunks. Sarah and I giggle in the locker room before we swim about what the guys will wear each time and who looks best. Caesar's black trunks are the winners, but Woody's red ones are a very close second.

Sarah is enjoying her time around the guys, and I'm trying to figure out who's going to ask her out first. I'm amused, but as long as they don't interfere with the mandatory exercise time, I don't care. Sarah is a stickler. We do a full hour non-stop, so if we have to stop for any reason, she just tacks on more time the next day. When we first started swimming, Sarah spent a lot of time hands on with me, correcting my form, ensuring I remembered how to breathe properly and reminding me to open my eyes. This is why I prefer the beach. I like to lie in the sun, not swim in the water.

* * *

_Flashback in Italics_

"_Man, she has absolutely no interest in you," Caesar tells Binkie. "She's just being polite. Now me, on the other hand," he grins, "you know she likes her Latin lovers."_

_Binkie and Woody snort. "Please," Binkie says, "you keep trotting out that accent and she just smiles at you. I get whistled at. Step aside and let a real man handle business."_

"_Real man?" Caesar looks around in confusion. "Where?"_

_The guys trash talk each other until Hal and Zip walk in._

"_Zip, these idiots think they're gonna make a move on Sarah," Caesar says, grinning. "What do you think?"_

_Zip laughs. "Nice try, boys, but I've nearly got that sewn up. Asking her out tomorrow."_

_Hal sits next to me and smirks. I see him tap something into his phone._

_I raise an eyebrow and Hal shakes his head. "Not quite, Steph." He smiles. "Time to give them all a reality check," he whispers._

"_Reality check?"_

"_Just watch."_

_The guys were still trash talking each other as Cal walked in for a snack. "Cal, you know Sarah. What's her type?" Woody asks._

_Cal looks at the guys then looks at me. He raises an eyebrow at me, smiles, and walks out with his yogurt._

_The guys look at me with glazed looks on their faces._

"_OK, that would be hot," Woody says. Binkie, Caesar, and Zip nod._

"_Ummm …no, that would not be hot. That would be uncomfortable. That would be two too many breasts in the bed." The men groan and shift. "Sounds to me like no one is asking my trainer out."_

_The guys leave and Hal's shoulders start shaking._

"_What?" I ask, bewildered._

_Hal turns red, and he finally turns to me, still chuckling. "Sarah's bi and she's hot on Woody right now. She likes you more, but she doesn't mix business with pleasure."_

_I start to laugh. Cal was slick. He answered the question by not answering the question. "Then why didn't Cal say so?"_

"_Sarah's a friend, and she just got out a relationship. He's protective of her."_

"_So how did you know?"_

_Hal raises an eyebrow. "No one gets within five feet of you without me checking them out completely. Cal vouched for her, but I still needed a full background before she could meet you."_

_I glare at Hal. "Does everyone I meet have to pass through your requirements before I'm allowed to say hello? That's not fair, Hal. I'm not a child, I'm a grown woman. You can't tell me who I can hang out with and who I can't!" I was working up to a full tirade when Hal speaks._

"_I'm sorry. Well, I am but I'm not."_

_I look at Hal in confusion and anger._

"_My job is to keep you safe, mine and Hector's. You attract crazies, Steph. I don't want you to get hurt. So yes, I do background checks on everyone that's going to have any kind of extended relationship with you. All unknowns are going to be checked before they get close. I refuse to mess up and allow you to be hurt ever again."_

_I deflate. I didn't realize Hal was still blaming himself for my kidnapping during the Slayers drama. That took the wind from my sails._

"_So I'm sorry you're upset with me, but I'm warning you, I'll do it again and again. I'm not letting you get hurt. Sarah's the first person to be allowed close to you since I took over as XO. Everyone else you're in contact with is a known individual, but not close."_

"_Who else have you run backgrounds on?"_

"_David Pickens. He took over your job, which means you may have contact with him. Plus, I banked a favor from Connie. Never know when that might be useful."_

I was stuck between wanting to scream and acknowledging that Hal was right. I do attract crazies. I told him I'm not good at assessing threats, and if he had not told me, I would never have known he did a background check on Sarah.

My big brother. I have 40 hot, sweet, overprotective big brothers, well more than that if you add Atlanta. We need to come up with some ground rules. I need to think about that later.

* * *

My private discussions with Tank are always short. He simply reminds me that he's certain that I can do the job and that he's proud of me. Somehow, Tank telling me he's proud of me means a lot. Again, not as good as 'Proud of you, Babe', but it works.

I call Lula after I hang up on Tank. Lester's comment that Tank is calling her but she's not talking to him doesn't make any sense.

"Lula, are you OK?"

Silence on the line, then, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Why you think something's wrong?"

I decide to skirt around Tank. "Because you haven't been yourself for weeks. You're moody, irritable, and quick to snap. I thought you might be PMSing, but this has been weeks, so what gives?"

I can hear Lula sigh. "Ain't nothing wrong. I'm just bored and tired, that's all. David's an asshole but he knows how to bring in his skips, so he don't need my help. Ain't nothing to do there. I finished all my classes at school and the next semester don't start for a few weeks. The men I meet all assholes, so I ain't met no one new. Life sucks right now, White Girl. I actually did some filing last week."

Connie must be in tears. I'll bet she can't find anything. "You talk to Tank?"

"Why? It's over between us."

"You sure?"

"Hell yeah. He took his ass off to Texas, and all he said was he'll call me when things settle down. So how long is that supposed to be? He think I'm just gonna wait around for him to call? Who does he think he is? He ain't that damn great."

Lula keeps grumbling, and I'm struck yet again by RangeMan communication. It sucks. Tank told Lula the same thing he told me, but he forgot that Lula hasn't hung around RangeMen long enough to be able to translate that sentence like I can. I've been around them long enough to know that Tank was trying to be thoughtful and considerate and let Lula know that he was going to be busy all the time and that if she tried to call, he might not answer. All Lula heard was 'I'll talk to you when I get ready,' and considering Tank's not exactly known for the gift of gab, that probably did sound like a kiss off.

"Well, has he called, Lula?" I hear a sniffle. Oh no. "OK, so he has called."

"Yeah."

"So why not talk to him? Things must have calmed down if he called."

"How often do you talk to him?" Uh oh. There's no good answer. I glance at the clock. It's 7PM. Yeah, this is OK. I throw on my jeans and find my flip flops and head down to 5.

"Not often. We have calls with Bobby and Lester at 7AM, but that's it. And that's just them telling me what they need from me or what's going on with the branch."

"So he got time to call you at 7AM but he can't call me?"

"Lula, are you awake at 7AM?" I've found Hal, and I write him a message to find Hector and tell him I need to go to Lula's ASAP. She needs me. Hal calls Hector.

Silence.

Hal passes me a note. Hector's out and about, and they have a take-down planned. Hal will take me to Lula's if I **swear** I won't leave. I know Hector's watching my trackers so I nod. I make a note that I need to stop for ice cream and Tastykakes. Female emergency. Hal looks slightly disturbed, writes 'TMI', and nods. We head to the garage.

"Lula, I don't even like being awake at 7AM for this call, but it's the only time all day I'll hear from them. Usually it's Bobby talking. Lester's training the guys, and you know Tank doesn't really talk."

Lula sighs. "I know." Finally, there's a quiet, "I just miss him so much."

I smile. "If he's calling, Lula, I'm sure he misses you too." Hal escorts me into the store, where I grab Ben & Jerry's, Tastykakes, and half a pie. On the way to Lula's house, Hal swings through Cluck in a Bucket and orders a full bucket, which makes me grin.

"Where are you, White Girl? That sounds like Cluck in a Bucket."

"It is. I'm getting provisions. I got ice cream, Tastykakes, a pie, and I'm grabbing a bucket. I forget anything?" We pull away and head to Lula's apartment.

Silence, then, "Nah, sounds like you got everything. Where you headed with that loot? Sounds like you might need some help. You too skinny to be able to put all that somewhere. You need some help with that?"

"Maybe. Open the door. My hands are too full to knock."

The door opens and Lula is grinning. I can see the dried tears on her face.

"Well, damn White Girl. You came with dinner and dessert." She looks behind me to Hal, who has the chicken and the pie. "He staying?"

Hal shakes his head and raises his phone. RangeMan goodbye. I grin and wave him out. I turn back to Lula, who's making a plate.

"OK, so let's sit and you can tell me what's going on."


	34. Plum Dinner Fun, Part III

**Chapter 34: Plum Dinner Fun, Part III**

**Hector's POV**

We are all gathered here today to join these men and this woman together…

_Dios_, where is my brain today?

We are gathered together in the garage, me, Hal, Woody, Zip, Zero, and Junior, to accompany _Angelita_ to dinner at her Mama's house. We are cautiously optimistic. They waited until Ranger was gone to tell the story of what is now being termed the 'Announcement Dinner' and, under normal circumstances, I would've made them pay for gossiping about Ranger in a way that made him look bad. However, I too was astonished by the story.

Mr. Plum put Ranger on notice? Mr. Plum?

I was beyond amazed, hence my interest in attending the last Plum family dinner. My preoccupation with avoiding Granny Mazur's fingers meant I didn't get a chance to really examine Mr. Plum, but I'm determined tonight. I need to know if we have an ally or a disinterested observer. If the man won't, or can't, stand up and be a father to _Angelita_, I need to know.

She's my partner now. **No one** will beat her up or bring her down while I draw breath. Pod Mom is a known negative. Granny Mazur is support for _Angelita_, but she has her own agenda.

My balls are completely uninterested in her agenda.

We split up into two SUVs, travel to the Plum home and are met by Pod Mom and Granny Mazur. Pod Mom has a small smile on her face; Granny Mazur is grinning big.

"Stephanie, I see you brought your partner back. Hector, is it?" I wait for Zip to translate this sentence before I nod. "Wonderful to see you again, Hector. Let's see. I remember Henry and Angelo, but I believe the rest of you are new."

Every man is confused by this. She's smiling. She's calling us by name. Even _Angelita_ is confused. "Umm, right . . . Mom, let me introduce Zip," Pod Mom frowns, "sorry, Simon, Evan aka Junior, and Woodrow aka Woody."

"OK, well, welcome to our home. Do any of you, besides Angelo, speak Italian?" No one responds. "Well, at least Angelo is back. Frank will be thrilled." Zero smiles cautiously. I'm irritated. I can't speak Italian, so I'll have no idea what's being said. I need to get a handle on Mr. Plum ASAP.

We step inside the house, where Mr. Plum leaves his chair long enough to adjust the table and pat his daughter on the shoulder. _Mierda!_ This is not my night. I'm placed next to the _abuela_ again. I'm not ready for whatever her next move is. I have other things on my mind tonight.

Pod Mom produces the meal, and we're astonished to find that it's completely within our dietary requirements. A lean London broil with steamed cabbage and carrots, brown and wild rice, and salad. A classic 'Ella' meal. Mr. Plum, Granny Mazur and _Angelita_ look disappointed.

"Um . . . Mom? Is there any gravy?"

Pod Mom smiles. "No, sorry, no gravy. I talked to your Ella and she said that this is an appropriate meal. Is that right, Henry?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hal replies politely.

We'll never admit it to Ranger, but eating at the Plums' is the closest we get to gravy unless Ella is in a generous mood, so this is both wonderful (Pod Mom is supporting her daughter and has clearly been in contact with Ella. Interesting.) and a downer.

"Well, this is a pip. Helen, I hope this meat is tender because I'm not fighting with my dentures all night to eat it." Every man represses a grimace and shudder.

This is the start to the most hellish meal I've ever eaten. Not the meal itself; Pod Mom has done an excellent job with the London broil, tender, flavorful, and tasty. No, within minutes, Granny Mazur begins her offensive.

"_You know Hector," _she whispers_, "I've thought a lot about your offer, and I think I was wrong to turn you down. I think I would like to see if I can last two rounds with you in a bed. Would we be in a bed? Or are you a sex on the floor man? Or the shower? Do you use toys? I have a handy new Herbie Horsecock in my room. Have you ever used one?"_

My skin is crawling and I'm forced to concentrate on my meal. I refuse to make any sort of face suggesting I understand her, so she steps it up. Meanwhile, the men are close enough to follow her whispers with amazement on their faces. Thankfully, they're too stunned to translate it so I can pretend to ignore her.

Meanwhile, Pod Mom is questioning _Angelita_ about what skills she's learning. I force myself to ignore Granny and listen to this conversation. I motion to Zip to translate it for me. This is one time where I wish I wasn't forced to keep up this pretense.

"So, the men in Atlanta taught you how to avoid being followed?" _Angelita_ nods. "Is that a handy skill?" Pod Mom looks at Hal, who nods.

"Yes, ma'am, it's a skill we test on. The ability to avoid being followed and being able to follow someone without being detected."

"Are you any good at following someone?" Pod Mom asks.

"Well, Hal hasn't tested me on that yet, but I did pass his pop quiz on evasion."

I see Mr. Plum perk up. "How?"

_Angelita_ tells them about ditching Joyce Barnhardt while searching for the fake tail that Hal set up. Mr. Plum smiles, but Pod Mom frowns.

"So, you didn't actually pass that assessment?" Every man looks over in surprise. Pod Mom is looking at _Angelita_ in concern. "I mean, Stephanie passed because she spotted a real tail, but she didn't pass because Henry set up a tail for her that she missed. She had two tails and only ditched one."

I consider Pod Mom's words. She's correct. _Angelita_ only half passed the test. She'll have to be tested again because Tank and Lester would've failed her. I see Hal and Junior consider her words. They'll set her up again. She has to pass.

"So," Pod Mom continues, "what other skills have you learned?"

"Well, Maxwell in Atlanta started some basic knife skills—"

"Like chopping and dicing?" Pod Mom asks excitedly. Every man allows himself a small smile.

"Umm …more like throwing and handling." _Angelita_ picks up her butter knife and gives a small demonstration of holding a knife for defensive purposes. I make a note to test her and pick up those lessons. No one in the company has better knife skills than mine.

"_Do you think we could tape it? I know that, what do you call them, MILK tapes are big business. I'm the ultimate MILK. You and I could become famous off a sex tape! Think about it, rough streetwise Hispanic comes on to sweet innocent granny. It's an instant best seller! We could make millions! And from what I've felt, you'd definitely get plenty of attention._"

Yeah, we could become famous, for making the nastiest porno on the face of the earth. I'd lose all street cred. My name would never command fear and respect again. And the term is MILF, not milk, but last I checked, you don't qualify on the 'ILF' part of the word. Innocent and sweet? Not if they heard what you've been whispering for the past 20 minutes. _Oh Dios_, when will this meal end? My balls are slinking away. I'm glad my blank face is appropriate in so many situations.

Pod Mom deflates then perks up, but Mr. Plum beats her to the next question. "So, this is more how to use a knife as a weapon? How to draw it and hold it so you can be lethal with it, right?"

"Right," _Angelita_ responds, smiling at her papa.

Mr. Plum nods. He seems pleased, and he's looking at Granny Mazur with interest.

"_Maybe we could try some of the stuff they did in that 50 Shades of Grey book. Do you like being tied up? Harry did it once and I liked it, but that was at least 50 years ago. Hmm …has it really been 50 years since I had some real adventurous sex? Oh well. Anyway, the new girl at Pleasure Treasures said that riding crops are big now. I could pretend to ride 'em cowgirl on top of you."_

_Dulce Jesús_, make her stop.

Right now, no man at the table knows what to think about the Plums. They appear to be interested in _Angelita's_ skills and abilities. They're curious about what's she learning and doing. This is really, really weird. They also don't know what to do about Granny Mazur's assault on my ears. They're all pretending that they don't hear this and everyone's blank face is getting a workout.

"Anything else?" Mr. Plum asks.

"Well, Ram and I," Mrs. Plum clears her throat, "sorry, Ramsay and I practice in the gun range."

"Really?" Granny Mazur asks. "Are they showing you how to shoot? Can you hit a can at 100 paces yet? Maybe I should bring my gun and shoot?"

I'm grateful her interest has shifted. The last thing she said was something about whips and chains, and I'll admit I was enjoying that thought. Chaining her up, I mean.

"Maybe you should take your gun and let them shoot," Mr. Plum mutters. "I'm sure they can make it look like an accident."

We all hide smiles. If she starts pinching me, then I'll be more than willing to consider it.

"Ram, sorry, Ramsay says I'm a natural. The only thing he really wants to work on with me is not leaving the gun in the cookie jar."

"Is that where you keep it?" Mr. Plum asks. His eyebrows have drawn together in concern.

"Well, yeah . . . like Rockford," _Angelita_ smiles.

Mr. Plum frowns. "Rockford is TV. This is real life. You've been shot at so many times I'd think you'd want to carry your gun." Everyone looks toward Mr. Plum. "I'm sure these boys are carrying one, if not two, guns right now. Maybe more. You have to carry weapons, too. You're a bounty hunter and a security chief. You have to be an example. You need a holster?" I can tell Mr. Plum is serious.

"Are you boys really carrying guns at my dinner table?" Mrs. Plum looks shocked, but Mr. Plum answers before we're forced to.

"I hope to hell they are. I'm sure part of their job is protecting Pumpkin, right?" We nod. "Well then, they can't do that unarmed. Besides, the bad guys don't go away just because it's dinner time, Helen. Pumpkin needs to carry too. Do you have your gun with you, Pumpkin?"

_Angelita_ is stunned and shakes her head. I thought it was in that massive purse of hers somewhere.

Time for another black pillowcase.

"_What do you think of swinging? I've never tried it, but Doris at the Clip 'N Curl said that maybe I should. I don't know where you would get the swing from, but she said you need at least four people to get a swing going. I think we can manage a swing on our own, but maybe she was talking about a really big swing, like the kind you hang from the ceiling."_

Zip, Zero, Junior and Hal are all red. Woody excuses himself from the table with a bout of coughs. _Angelita_ looks over in complete confusion. I've been chewing the same bite of food for at least five minutes. I refuse to choke, but I wish I'd taped that part.

"Pumpkin, you have to keep your gun with you," Mr. Plum says sternly. "From now on, you make sure you have your gun with you at all times. Whatever these boys carry, you carry. You're supposed to, I'm sure."

We're all stunned. I've made my assessment. Mr. Plum is support. The table is quiet for a moment, then "So you **can** shoot good, huh? Can you trick shoot? You know, do fancy tricks with your gun like a Wild West show?" Granny Mazur asks.

_Angelita_ shakes her head. I'm sure she's still surprised that her papa is ordering her to carry. I'm surprised her papa is ordering her to carry. "No Grandma, no trick shooting. Just basic defense shooting."

"Well, maybe I should shoot with you. I have Harry's gun, and I'd like to know how to shoot. I think I'd be pretty good at shooting. I shot that chicken in the gumpy, remember? I think that's pretty good. That's like shooting a man—"

"Let's get off the subject of shooting for the moment. Any other skills, Stephanie? It sounds like you're learning a lot," Mrs. Plum says. She's clearing the table and refusing our offers of assistance.

_Angelita_ considers it for a moment then shakes her head. "Nope. That's all the skills I've picked up so far. The guys have a personal trainer for me, and we work out every morning at 6AM. Oh! Hector taught me how to pick locks a few weeks back, so I can get out of locks and handcuffs now."

"_OK, there's an idea. We can use handcuffs! Do you have some handcuffs? I mean, you'll have to pretend you can't get out of them, but that would be fun. Maybe I could handcuff you to the swing. I think that's a good idea. Less work for both of us. If I handcuff you to the swing, can I use other toys, like feathers? Are you ticklish, Hector?" _

I'm going to Mass tomorrow. Which saint do I pray to? Has He forsaken me?

Mrs. Plum beams at me and sets the dessert on the table. Two chocolate silk pies with whipped cream. _¡Gracias a Dios!_ (Thank God!) Fats and sugar. Mrs. Plum hasn't taken lessons from Ella in desserts. Mr. Plum looks happy and so does everyone else at the table.

"Sorry dear, but I don't dare touch your father's desserts."

I'm tempted to label Pod Mom as tentative support, but one meal will not change my mind. She's still on probation, although I appreciate the extra large piece she's just placed in front of me.

Now that we've exhausted the topic of _Angelita's_ skills, Granny Mazur begins her assault on my ears again. I'm feeling a bit sick. The woman has 70+ years of sick fantasies to draw on, and she's whispering things I'm too innocent to hear. I'm delighted to see Mr. Plum motion all the men to the garage.

My ears can finally rest. Round two of the battle is a draw. I survived, but I think my porno collection will get a workout tonight. I need to bleach my brain.

Every man looks at me in complete wonder. I know. I live a hard and dangerous life. We light up and stand around in silence. Finally, Mr. Plum speaks and his first words are to me.

"I'm sure I don't want to know half of what she whispered to you tonight. Don't know what you did to her, but she's been trying to think of a way to get you back for weeks. She's got the girls at the Clip N Curl involved, so be careful."

Zip dutifully translates while I consider what I'm going to do. Good. She really didn't have a response to me so she called in reinforcements. I smile and nod at Mr. Plum, who nods back.

"I'm enjoying the cigars, boys, and I'm always grateful to have more men at my table. I know that tonight startled the lot of you, so let me tell you what's going on." Mr. Plum takes a long drag and gets comfortable, so we do the same.

"I have no idea what's really going on, but I know a setup when I see one. My family was Mob, not major players but more mid-level."

We know. We investigated _Angelita's_ background when Ranger first got involved with her. We found that Mr. Plum's father broke from the family business (getting even) but stayed friendly with them.

"I see some of what is going on here, and I support it. If the goal is to get Pumpkin trained and really thinking about her job in terms of her life being on the line, then Mrs. Plum and I will do whatever is necessary to support you in this. We've talked about it, and we have an agreement. Mrs. Plum will refrain from pushing suitors at Pumpkin for the year that Ranger is gone."

Mr. Plum takes a drag of his cigar, and I consider this. I don't see it happening.

"Of course, it's hard for my wife to let go of the habits of a lifetime, so I'm watching her. I'll assume that you're all in this to push her toward your boss. I don't need any of you to confirm or deny that. We'll just leave that statement as is. In the meantime, my wife and I intend to support what she's doing, which is why we asked all the questions about her training tonight."

Mr. Plum takes another drag of his cigar and smiles. I don't think any man was prepared for what we're hearing right now. Mr. Plum has been very underestimated. Of course, he was underestimated because he never appeared to get off his ass and support his daughter, so I'll call it a wash. We'll move forward with the man we have.

"Besides, we are interested and I think, I'm not sure, but I think that Edna and Helen are ready to change the gossip about Pumpkin in the 'Burg from 'She's a disaster bounty hunter' to 'she's a locked and loaded crime fighting machine'. I don't know that I expect her to be at your levels, but I would like to know that my daughter is carrying her gun and can shoot to kill."

Mr. Plum has moved back down to tentative support. If we're training her, of course we're going to get her up to our levels. Why would he think otherwise? It would be a waste of our time not to ensure she can shoot and fight at the level of a RangeMan, especially as she's in charge of us all.

Mr. Plum stubs his cigar and pulls his whiskey. We each take a small amount. We all need it.

"My wife will never tell Pumpkin what it meant to her to kill the man in the bunny suit. She doesn't want Pumpkin to have that on her heart. But I intend that my wife will **never** be forced to do that again." Mr. Plum looks fierce, and we all nod. Yes, we agree.

"If my daughter intends to do this job, she **will** do it right. She will do it with skill. She will do it with training. I've been to Mass after Mass thanking God for that broken leg. So, what I need to know is what do you need from me, well, us?"

We're stunned. Mr. Plum has moved firmly into the support column on probation, and if his wife is also involved in this endeavor, I'll give her the same status. I need to **see** more support from her, support that is based on the fact that _Angelita_ is her daughter whom she loves. I will give her credit where credit is due. Tonight's meal was appropriate, she asked questions about _Angelita's_ training, and there were no mentions of marriage or babies. Now, how can the Plums help us push her along?

We think for a moment and finally I speak.

"_Lo que has hecho esta noche es lo que necesitamos. Más de la misma. Si sólo nos empujándola, Angelita empuja hacia atrás. Ella se pone terca con nosotros. Su apoyo y aliento, incluso el suyo más que el de su esposa, es necesario."_ (What you've done tonight is what we need. More of it. If it's just us pushing her, _Angelita_ pushes back. She gets stubborn with us. Your support and encouragement, yours even more than your wife's, is necessary.)

Zip translates for Mr. Plum, who nods then grins.

"Done. On a side note, any chance you can teach me to shoot? Driving a cab is dangerous and knowing how to protect myself isn't a bad idea."

We smile. "As long as you're willing to promise that you won't use what we teach you against, say, your mother-in-law?" Hal says.

Mr. Plum laughs. "No problem. I promise." He takes a sip of the whiskey. "I'd use the knife skills on the old bat."

Every man in the garage smiles.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

This has been the weirdest dinner. Mom and Dad have been acting weird, and Granny Mazur is smiling.

"I like Hector. He's a pip."

"Grandma, what are you up to?" I heard a small part of her whispers. My partner is indestructible.

"Nothing." She smiles. "I like him. He's sharp and he's not scared of me. Messing with him is fun."

"So are you just doing this for a laugh?"

"Not many laughs for a woman my age. Your RangeMan boys are cowards but not that Hector. He has balls, and plenty of them. Like Ranger."

RangeMen? Cowards? I don't think I've ever heard those words used in the same sentence.

"Mother! That's not appropriate conversation for the dinner table." Mom is frowning at Grandma, who laughs.

"For Christ's sake, Helen, nothing is appropriate conversation for the dinner table with you around. Balls! Say it, balls!" Grandma crows. I can't help laughing, but Mom is scandalized. She turns to me.

"Ignore your Grandmother. I'm happy to see that you're learning some skills and that you managed to give that horrible Joyce girl a run for her money. What do you think they'll teach you next?"

I'm sorry, but I still don't know who this woman is. Is this my mother? **MY** mother? It can't be. This woman is interested in my skills and wants to know what I'm doing. I haven't received one lecture tonight about what I should be doing or about getting married or having babies. Something's not right.

"Ummm …I don't know what they have planned next. I'm so busy with work that sometimes it's all I can do to stay awake."

Mom places another piece of pie in front of me. That's three slices to make up for the gravy-less meal tonight. Mom and Ella **cannot** talk ever again.

"Well, make sure you pay attention during these lessons and learn as much as you can. I like the idea that you managed to evade Leslie Barnhardt's daughter. Isn't she the one that slept with Richard?"

Thanks for bringing that up, Mom.

"Oh, good job Helen," Grandma says, frowning. "I'm sure that's exactly what Stephie wanted to be reminded of, her sorry ex-husband and his mistress." Grandma turns to me. "You should get together with the boys and run a tail on her. Run her right into the woods, get her lost, and leave her there."

Hmm …I need to write that down for later.

Mom sits. "Sorry, Stephanie." We eat our pie in silence. "Well, where are you off to next?"

"Well, it was supposed to be NYC, but I think I'll skip them for now and head to Miami. I got an email from Julie, Ranger's daughter. She's graduating from middle school and wanted to know if I could come to the ceremony, so I think I'll make a surprise visit into the RangeMan Miami office."

"So you're close to Ranger's daughter?"

I nod. "Yes. Julie and I email each other all the time. She's a really sweet girl."

Mom nods. "I think that's nice, that you have a relationship with her. You two were the only ones held by that mad man so you'll always have a connection. Is Ranger OK with your relationship with his child?"

"Yes." Again, who **is** this woman?

"Do you think he's interested in getting married again? Perhaps having more children?" Mom asks, looking hopeful.

I relax. There she is. There's my mother. "I don't know, Mom. That's not something we talk about."

Mom frowns, opens her mouth, looks at me, then sighs. "Well, perhaps in time."

"Well, I think you should make a move for him. He's got an exciting job and an excellent package! Prime rump roast on that boy!" Grandma cackles.

"Mother!" Mom says, shaking her head. "Is that all you think of? Sex? No, don't answer that. Stephanie, what do you do in your job? What does a Managing Director do?"

I give Mom an overview of what I do and she smiles.

"It all sounds complicated. Are you able to keep up with everything? Do you need help with it?"

What is she up to? "No, not really. The XOs have the difficult job. I just oversee them."

Mom pats my hands. "Well, still sounds complicated. More coffee?"

I decline. This is just too weird, and I don't want to be up all night thinking about it. Sarah will still be in the gym at 6AM tomorrow.

The guys walk back in. I can't wait until I get to go smoke a cigar in the garage with the men. Being left behind for the inquisition is not fun. Daddy slips out the dining room and returns with a holster.

"I used to keep my pistol in this holster. Keep your gun in it and keep it on you at all times. You are a security chief. Dress like it."

I'm looking at the holster in surprise. Daddy meant that. He expects me to carry my gun.

I smell a conspiracy between RangeMan and my Daddy. What do they talk about in that garage? I need to know.

Clearly, there's more to the garage than cigars. If Daddy pops up at RangeMan, I'll have all the evidence I need.


	35. RangeMan Brotherhood

**Chapter 35: RangeMan Brotherhood**

**Manny's POV**

I'm beginning to think Wifey and Leadership Core think I'm smarter than I actually am. I'm grateful they have so much belief in me, but I'm not quite sure where to start here.

RangeMan NYC is a mess.

I've been here for three weeks, and I've been able to determine that Javier has some deficiencies. Not the kind that gets you fired but definitely the kind that make life difficult for him. Because of this, I'm not quite sure how I want to define him as a leader. At first, I wanted to term him 'timid' but that wasn't right. I'm thinking 'cautious'. He sticks to his guns once he makes a decision, but he definitely moves slowly making up his mind.

Shane was definitely not suited for NYC. The man had no concept of anything outside being a bodyguard, and I'm wondering why he was named strategist. He was also one of the most unpleasant men I've had the displeasure of meeting. He looked at me as if I personally booted him out of his office, and I told him that if he continued to give me those looks, we could work it out on the mats.

I didn't see him again. He left for Miami without another word to me.

Liam is going to get my foot broke off in his ass again. He's working on it, he's earning it daily. He thinks the word 'dumbass' is appropriate in all situations. Thankfully he's kept to calling Javier that (again, you don't take him to the mats for insubordination? Jesus, Hal would've broken his jaw a few times by now!) because I think he gets the idea that calling **me** a dumbass again will be the last few words he says for a while. He's also avoiding me, which is probably the smart move for him. A bruised jaw, broken nose, two bruised ribs, and a sprained ankle were all it took for him to understand that I don't play the disrespect game. Try me if you want to.

Wifey was as good as her word. Soon after we arrived, Diego and I called her and said we needed XO level powers. We wanted to be able to poke into everywhere and everything with no interference. Thirty minutes later, the email went out to all RM-NYC that we were coming in as strategists, but with XO level powers and authority. Javier didn't look surprised, and I confirmed with him that Wifey gave him the heads up before she sent the email so he wasn't caught off guard. Surprisingly, he's been OK with it. At Wifey's suggestion, he's spent a lot of time on the phone with Danny and Ryan coming up with ways to restructure his group and finances to better suit his branch. I asked her why she suggested Danny and not Hal, and she said that Danny can tell Javier things in a way likely to gain Javier's support so it was the better move.

OK. Whatever shores the man up.

It will take a miracle to convince Diego to stay here. He hates it already and having to deal with a broken pipeline is not making him a happy camper. This is a bunch of whiny, self-important RangeMen, and they've been allowed to get this way due to lack of Leadership. Because Leadership is considered a joke they don't see the need to take anything seriously, so they don't. I decide now: 'disciplinary sessions' start Monday. Get it together, boys, or get out. RangeMan has a reputation to uphold.

Every morning Diego and I meet at 6AM in the gym to work out. We follow the standard RangeMan workout: cardio, weights, martial arts one day, Yoga/Pilates (what? Yoga and Pilates is good for flexibility) and hand-to-hand the next day. The NYC men gape watching us work out; there are no shortcuts, no half measures. When we hit the mats to practice hand-to-hand, it's serious.

I can see that this is an office that just barely passes medical review.

That's where I can start. Medical review.

* * *

We quickly figured out why the branch was losing so many contracts: It was bugged. Smartest thing I did was grab a bug detector from Hector's office before leaving Trenton. Shane's entire office was covered in them, and Diego and I spent our first day documenting and removing the bugs. We went and surveyed the other offices. Javier's office was also covered, including one in his phone. Liam's was completely empty.

I think we've fixed our first problem.

We've also been holding 'fake' meetings with Javier and Liam to see how much each one would leak. We now know who the true gossip is and it wasn't Javier. The entire job of the liaison is to be the official mouthpiece of the branch, but there's an art to the job. Ram is great at it; he tells just enough to get you out of Trenton's business, but not so little that you constantly have to call back and ask more questions. Liam can't do the job. He either says too much or not enough. Actually, he talks too damn much.

Problem two identified and we have the fix ready.

8AM sees us in our temporary office trying to figure out what to do next. Our first three weeks were spent stabilizing the branch. Danny, Hal, and Mark all agreed to loan us some men on a short-term basis. We told Mark's men that what they learn here is not to be leaked back to Boston; any leaks will be taken care of on the mats. After watching my bout with Liam, they got the picture. We've also managed to persuade some of our old clients to come back and started offering the Personal Investigations services here in NYC. That's already giving Javier and Danny plenty to work with in stabilizing Javier's budget. We can now support the branch at current levels, but to make up the deficit and grow the branch we need to eliminate a saboteur.

5PM Friday and I hit the 6th floor apartment I'm sharing with Diego. Again, major bug infestation that we had to remove before we could feel comfortable farting in the place, let alone speaking. Diego hits the apartment shortly after me and we share a beer.

"Opinion?" I ask.

Diego blinks. "Useable. Bring him in."

I nod. We go back downstairs. Javier is packing for the day.

"Dinner out," Diego says. "We need to talk."

Javier looks surprised but nods. We hit the streets looking for a decent restaurant and find a little Mexican place four blocks down. We order and Diego and I look at each other. He nods, so I turn to Javier.

"We'll level with you. You aren't as shitty as we assumed you might be."

Javier looks startled.

"Your reputation within RangeMan is mud. A year of losses, unwilling or unable to get rid of Shane, no one is quite sure who you are or why you're in charge. You were sinking, and you did the best thing you could have ever done in coming clean to Steph. Ranger and Lester would've broken you on the mats."

I mean this. He literally saved his ass by confessing to Wifey.

Javier nods solemnly. "How do I fix it?"

Diego sits back. I know what's next, but I want to see how he broaches it.

"Alright, this is what I need to know," Diego begins. "I've verified you aren't as bad as your reputation would lead me to believe, but you aren't my ideal sort of manager. I haven't been able to come up with one positive to say about your leadership or potential to grow into your role. So right now, I need you to convince me that I shouldn't slip a bug into the CO's ear that you need to be replaced."

We order and allow Javier to think about what we've said.

"OK, I'll level with you. I have deficiencies. I'm well aware of what they are. First, I'm loyal, perhaps too loyal to my men. It's hard to get men to join RangeMan NYC and the ones who do and stick around I'm grateful for. I'm already a fan of the CO because she managed to do what I couldn't, which was push through that pay differential that was desperately needed here. I would get men then lose them because of pay, and it's hard to keep a branch afloat like that."

We nod. Understood.

"Second, I stopped listening to my own instincts. I allowed myself to stay in the weeds. I allowed myself to continue to tread water even when I knew what I needed to do. I've already put a stop to that. I'm not allowing anyone to convince me to do something that I think is stupid or unwise. That doesn't mean I won't listen to reason. I'll listen to well crafted, well thought out arguments. But if my instincts are still shouting no, I'll listen from now on."

He has no idea how much of himself he just revealed in that statement.

"Third, I'm not creative. It's the reason I was loyal to my Core. I'm an administrator. My original plan was to go into government, but I enjoyed this more. I'm not the man for big ideas but I am the man you want when it's time to push them along. It's the reason why, until this quarter, this branch was still limping along. If you have ideas, creative ideas, once you tell me what they are and how you want to accomplish them, I can help plan. I can plan and strategize and push it along and do my best to remove all roadblocks. I just need to know what the plans and the goals are."

We nod. OK, that's a selling point and a big one. Javier is quiet again, as if trying to think of something else to say, but I think we have enough.

I look at Diego and nod. I've already told him what I think, but this is his call. I want to see what he says.

Diego levels a cool gaze on Javier. "I rarely have respect for men like you. You allowed yourself to be bullied." He takes a sip of water as Javier adopts his blank face. That had to hurt. "You allowed your own core team to bully you, thereby causing confusion in the ranks. The men were unsure of your leadership; therefore, discipline has broken down. Because no one fears or respects you as a leader the entire branch suffers."

I've learned Diego is blunt. The man has no sense of letting someone down easy.

"You owe your continued position to Manny. After one week here I was begging him to tell the CO to fire you."

Thanks, Diego. I didn't need that.

"However, he saw something in you that bore watching, and I'm glad he didn't succumb to my pleas. I now see what he saw. You've found and reattached your balls. You're demanding respect. You're taking men to the mats, although it's not much of a discipline session. You're participating in strategy sessions with us to move this place forward, and it allowed me to see all the weaknesses you listed and your strengths. I lied; I came into this meeting knowing I would recommend you stay, and I'll work with you to get this place up and running again."

Javier breathes a sigh of relief. His ass is safe. The worst is over. The man relied on his Core, to his detriment. Time to show him how much of a mistake that was.

"Liam has to go," Diego says. "You realize that fucker had you and Shane completely bugged?"

Javier is surprised. "No. I had no idea."

"I grabbed one of Hector's special bug detectors on the way out of Trenton," I reply. "Your office, Shane's office, and the apartment Diego and I are sharing had a total of 47 bugs. There was even a bug in the mouthpiece of your phone."

Now he's stunned.

"Essentially, what we've determined is that Liam was ruining your reputation because he felt he should've been named XO when the company transitioned to RangeMan. You have a reputation as a gossip, but now with the bugs gone we can see that it wasn't exactly true. You talk to your fellow XOs and your Core, but no one else. Liam told everyone everything and pinned it on you," I tell him. "Right now, he's running around the office trying to determine why he can't find out anything and he's stumped. He knows there's something major in the works, but since we removed all the bugs he's out the loop."

Javier smiles. "Where did you put them?"

"Shipped to Hector yesterday with a note. I'm sure when Hector reads the note, Liam won't be so interested in finding them anymore." We look at each other and laugh. Our entrees arrive and we take a few minutes to chow down.

"You have major work to do in order to repair both your reputation and the reputation of RangeMan NYC, but it's not impossible," Diego says. "Our ability to pull back as many contracts in the past three weeks as we have shows it's not impossible. At a minimum, here's what we want to do. Manny and I have some excellent new ideas for your pipeline, but Liam has to go before we execute any of them. I suspect that Liam is a mole, and Manny is following up on this."

At this, Javier looks completely dumbfounded.

"Again, it's a symptom of being pissed you were named XO. Shane and Liam were united in their contempt of you, but they weren't friends; at best they were friendly rivals. As fast as Shane had ideas, Liam sunk 'em to make both of you look bad, and he succeeded. Thing is, Shane didn't have that many good ideas, so I predict he will fail in my place in Miami."

"Explains why he insisted that **we** would be fired during that Sunday call but he didn't think anything would happen to him," Javier says softly.

Diego and I look at each other and nod. Liam really thought he'd sunk the XO and strategist with no reprisals to himself. If Javi hadn't had the balls to call Wifey and confess everything going on at NYC, it might have worked.

"He should know that Lester subscribes to the 'Jack Welch' school of management." Javi looks up with a smile but Diego looks confused. I look at him. "Step one: Fire the board. If they weren't fucking up, he wouldn't have been hired."

We laugh. Liam has no idea how much he owes Javi. Javi has saved him from an even worse beating from Lester.

"So why should I trust you to do what's right for me now?" Javier asks, looking at us. Good question. He really is relying on his instincts now, and there's fire in his eyes.

Diego nods. Yes, Javier is learning to trust himself again. "Because I have no interest in being XO for NYC. If you haven't noticed, I hate New York. It's dirty, smoggy, the pay is still shit even though the CO pushed through the differential, and I need to be on the mats with your men 24-7 in order for them to understand that they can't slack, that it won't be allowed. I'm not interested in any of this. I'm already tied to you for a quarter, and I'm not stupid; if I'm successful here, the CO will leave me here until all your issues are resolved. Therefore, it's in my interest to get you back in power at this branch as quickly as possible."

We give Javier a moment to think about that. "OK, what can I do to help?"

"First, what's your physical specialty?" I ask.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"Physical specialty, Javier. On the mats."

He thinks for a moment. "I don't really have one."

"Thought not. Investigate some options and pick one. Doesn't matter what you choose but you have to get one and fast. RangeMan leadership requires action and words. We don't do PIPs and HR talks in this company. We work it out on the mats, and your inability to do so means you are unable to discipline your branch. They need to fear **your** response if they fuck up. You fear Ranger's response if you fuck up, correct?"

Javier nods.

"Every man in this company does, which is why RangeMan as a whole doesn't have a lot of discipline problems. Diego here is a boxer and martial artist. I kickbox, muy thai, and I box decently well. Don't let your lack of active military background be your excuse. I was FBI, and I can take anyone down except my own XO and the Leadership Core."

Diego smiles, first one of the evening. "Who does Hal spar with?"

"It has to be a two man team. No one man at RMTrenton wants to face him on the mats unless it's a discipline session, and even then," I shudder, which makes the guys chuckle, "RangeMan Trenton does not have a lot of discipline problems." We all laugh at that. Hal has developed a reputation for balls and mat skills without peer in the company.

"In the meantime, we'll handle discipline in the branch," Diego says. "Brace yourself for complaints. The men are in for a steady diet of thrashings until they get the idea that this 'undisciplined' shit they have going is not going to fly."

Javier nods, takes out a notebook and writes a note. "What next?"

"From this moment on, the three of us are Core. Cut Liam out completely until Manny can verify if he's a mole one way or another. What we'll do is have fake meetings where we include him, and we'll give him carefully constructed information designed to sink his ass. If it's as bad as we think, it'll get back to the CO and will become the basis for firing him."

Javier adds this. "Ok, next?"

"Our true meetings will happen in restaurants like this, away from prying eyes. We'll plot and plan and get things going that way," I respond. "I've contacted Hector; Liam's ability to see our calendars will be gone by morning. So as long as neither he nor anyone else gets their hands on our phones, our schedules are safe. I also asked him to transfer the tracking and audio monitoring from two SUVs to Trenton so we can come and go as we need to. I'll continue to work on what's necessary to clear or convict Liam. You two get started rebuilding the branch."

"You're slick," Diego whistles. Javier nods. "I wouldn't have thought about the SUVs."

I decide to give them the truly good news. "Steph is scheduling her stop for three weeks from now, and it won't be a management review. I asked for extra time to give us time to truly get started on rebuilding the branch. So she's coming here as CO in power, to back up our orders, to shore up your standing, Javier, and to help us land contracts and plan. And don't underestimate the CO; she's wily and creative. We'll be able to put her to good use."

Diego looks relieved. "Thank god. I was wondering how she was going to review us when there's nothing to review."

I nod. "Yeah, she didn't think it was fair either so the plan changed. The RangeMan NYC review will probably be the last one in order to give us time to show some improvement."

We finish off our meals and beers in silence. Finally Javier speaks up.

"Look, I know the CO ordered you two to come save my ass, but I want to thank you for doing it. For agreeing to try to save the branch instead of torching it. For giving me a shot to prove I can do my job. I'll do everything I can to help."

Diego and I look at each other, and he nods at me. I consider how best to make Javi feel like a RangeMan again. "Look, I think every branch at RangeMan has some unofficial statement or truth that runs the branch, but no matter how we term it, it's all the same thing: steadfast loyalty. Each RangeMan is a brother to another and we'll face any enemy for a brother any day of the week. The example is the Leadership Core and it's what every man strives to emulate. No matter what, I've never seen them argue. I've never seen them fight, and I've been around them for three years. The outward face to the world is brotherhood and loyalty to each other. That's what we're giving you. We are your RangeMan brothers, here to help you pull your ass out the fire."

I sincerely hope he doesn't cry.

* * *

**A/N: I've I been in Hawaii for the past week (for work, lol) so to celebrate my relaxed week, I'm releasing the next chapter tomorrow around noon EST.**

**Veiland**


	36. Release the GRΣΣKS!

**Chapter 36: **_**Release the GRΣΣKS!**_

**Steph's POV (The next evening)**

Manny has returned from NYC for a half week in Trenton. Although he's barely showing it, Hal is beyond happy. I can tell he's desperate to put me on monitor duty again for sending Manny away. With Manny's return, the entire Trenton Core Team is in house for the first time in a month, and Hal's the happiest he's been in at least three weeks. A Boston Cream was left for me along with my yellow roses. No need to ask; I grinned and enjoyed my doughnut.

Last night, after Manny arrived, he told me he needed to speak to me about the NYC situation, so I told him to meet me after lunch. If it's bad, I need time to think of how I'm going to break it to Les.

Manny arrives in my office and we shut the door. I grab some water and curl up on the couch while Manny pulls his notes. It's a thick wad of notes. Holy shit, but that's good. He's been thorough. I need to know what I'm about to walk into. I grab a legal pad; his notes suggest I might need it.

"Alright, I'll start top to bottom," he says and I nod. "Javier is actually a good leader. He's forceful, he backs up his men, he has loyalty and is willing to fight for them. He relies on his Core to help him make the decisions for the branch and he doesn't allow anyone to question their choices. He's dedicated to moving as a group, as Leadership, in front."

I blink. "That's surprising. All the information I received on Javier was the exact opposite."

Manny smiles. "And I can tell you why. Although Javier was loyal to his Core, they were not loyal to him. Shane and Liam spent vast amounts of time defaming him to the staff and clients behind his back. Their favorite phrase for him was 'dumbass'."

I'm stunned. Nowhere else in the company would that ever be allowed.

"Liam is actually the biggest leak in RM-NYC. He tells everything. Javier talks to his fellow XOs, looking for advice and opinions, so it's another point in his favor. Javier is pretty circumspect in his dealings. He doesn't mind asking his colleagues for their opinions, and it takes a strong individual to do that in this company. Of course, it's contributed to the idea that he tells everything, but it's not true. His Core and his XO colleagues. That's it."

I agree. Everyone spends so much time trying to cover their asses and/or keep Mark out of their business that they fail to see that they should rely on each other. They all have important skills and abilities to share. My opinion of Javier has improved on that piece of intel alone. It shows real strength to open up to others and ask for opinions.

"Where Javier fails is in three places. One: he takes forever to make a decision. And I do mean forever. The man is obsessed with weighing decisions out point by point. He's obsessed with getting all the information he can and checking and rechecking. Sometimes it takes him so long to make a decision that by the time he has to make it, he only has one choice left. However, I can see he has good reasons for that."

"Which are?"

"He's a numbers man. He likes facts, figures, numbers and research. Proof. Assumptions won't fly with him. You can't give him guess work. So it drives the men crazy because they'll give him an idea, he'll look at it and demand more proof. More evidence."

"And this is bad because …?" I don't see how this is bad.

"Because at some point you have to make a decision. Like I said, checking and rechecking. You have to realize that sometimes you won't have all the information you want and you have to make a decision on whether or not to move based on what you have."

I nod. OK, he's slow.

"Two, he's not creative. He's an administrator and he's damn good at it, but it's the reason he relies so heavily on his strategist. He needs his ideas person to be strong and willing to get out there and fight. He'll back him to the hilt, but he can't be the one coming up with the ideas, and that's what Shane did to him."

Manny takes a sip of water and smiles. "Not being creative is not necessarily a bad thing. Hal's not that creative, but he is a good processes person, like Javi. Hal is committed to ensuring that Ram and I have everything we need in order to do our jobs. So we don't need Hal to be as creative as the position might assume. It's the reason we thought he would be the best XO. Hal is detail oriented. So is Javi."

OK. He needs a good, innovative strategist. I really want to fire Shane and Liam at this point. They left my XO out there to die then made it seem like his fault.

"Three, he's shit on the mats."

"Ok, wait. You're going to have to explain that one."

Manny nods. "I know that it seems strange, the idea that being able to physically stomp your employees is encouraged, but at RangeMan it's essential. First, it's a 'put your money where your mouth is' mentality. Don't say shit you can't back up. Second, it's more effective than PIPs and touchy-feely HR talks that every man in this company would run screaming from." Manny takes a long drink of water and looks me dead in the eye. "We're men; don't talk us to death. Hand me my ass and let's be done with it. The physical pain I'm going to feel is a more effective reminder of what's expected than any piece of paper you can hand me."

Ok, that makes sense. There aren't a lot of disciplinary problems at RangeMan because the men live in fear of being called to the mats. One of the weak points of my leadership as CO is the fact that everyone knows I can't call the men to the mats. No one lives in fear of me, but the threat of Hector is enough to stop all problems. "What's the fix for that?"

"He doesn't have a physical specialty. He needs lessons in boxing, kickboxing, wrestling, martial arts, whatever he can excel in." Manny walks to the door and passes the pitcher of water out for a refill. "Krav Maga, I really don't give a damn, but he needs to enroll now. Yesterday. At some point in the distant past. Diego and I have been handing out mat time and the men are stunned. Mat time at RangeMan NYC used to be a joke. Now the men understand that it's deadly serious and we **will** take correction out on your ass. Liam got the point the first time I broke his nose that fucking with me on the mats was a very bad idea."

Whoa. There's some anger in Manny's tone, and I'll bet this will answer the question about why Javier never called me. "What happened?"

"Let's just say the first time I gave him mat time for insubordination was the last time he decided to call **me** a 'dumbass', in front of the men or not."

I clap. Good. Don't mess with my favorite strategist. I knew that if Manny took Liam to the mats, there had to be a very good reason. Manny looks surprised then he smiles.

"OK, Liam or Diego next. I don't care which."

Manny shifts his notes. "OK, Liam. Recommendation: Fire him."

"Wow, that's to the point, Manny." And I already agree. Liam's gone. Ram returns with the pitcher and we wait for him to leave before continuing.

Manny refills the glasses. "How much have you heard about my presence in NYC, Steph?"

"Oh god, I get updates almost daily from Hal and Danny. Les and Bobby get constant updates and then we sit and try to sift through what we were hearing."

Manny raises his head in stunned disbelief. "Seriously? It was getting all the way out to Texas?" I nod. Manny shakes his head. "Makes sense. Diego and I set both of them up, just to see who would leak, where they leaked, and how much. We were stunned, because intel said Javier was the gossip but that's false. Things we told him circulated around the XOs but no further. That surprised us, but when Diego checked with Mando and I checked with Hal, we could see that was the extent of it. I'm sure Danny and Hal told you, which is how it got out to Texas?" Manny raises an eyebrow and I nod, stunned.

Holy shit. That explains the two and three versions of one story that we would get.

"Liam? Liam leaked every fucking thing we said, every meeting, every decision, sometimes word for word. He leaked to the NYC men, telling them that Javi told him to disseminate that info, which is how it circulated within the company. I'd call Ram and get one version of the story, then call Caesar and get another version of the same story. I'm betting the versions we told him are what Bobby and Les got. He has to go. When you can't trust your liaison to keep his mouth shut, you can't go after contracts. You can't make decisions. You can't do a damn thing with confidence because you know he'll blab."

I nod. "Done." I've never fired anyone before and I'm looking forward to it. This'll be interesting. "Diego?"

"Well on his way to fixing NYC, if we can get Liam out of there. He has a set of ideas that will turn RangeMan NYC on its head. The traditional client services, you know, monitoring, bodyguards, armed guards, but he has a few other things up his sleeve. Security and threat assessments for homes, companies, and individuals. That's actually one we can take company-wide if it works in NYC. Also, business and private investigations. We're doing private investigations there, but probing into the backgrounds of other companies and potential business partners is an untapped market."

Manny grins. I'm thinking about what he's said. All of it would be great company-wide.

"The best idea is mine and I'm willing to let him have it, although Hal will definitely kill me. Wanna know?" I nod, excited. "Counter surveillance. Think about it. We have experience with it from Scrog. Every man in Trenton had to learn about our boss's habits, his strengths and weaknesses, where he was apt to leave himself open and where you couldn't catch him. That's what Scrog did, which is how the final showdown ended up in your apartment. You were the wildcard, the only weakness Ranger still had. He shut down everything else."

I can't believe it. Some of the worst days of my life have become a business opportunity?

"Once I mentioned it, Diego thought it over and he also realized that it was a brilliant business opportunity." Manny takes a swig of water and sits back. "When a threat has been made, one of the hardest things to do is to figure out where your weak points are and how to shut them down. If you can do that successfully, you force the threat to one of two decisions: either they have to back off because you've become a 'hard target' or they allow themselves to be herded into a carefully created opening, one you control. Combine counter-surveillance with a bodyguarding service and we can shut down threats faster than any other company on the east coast!"

"Is there actually a need for this?"

Manny grins. "Like you wouldn't believe. Especially in NYC and Miami."

Well, put that way it does sound brilliant. "What does he need in order to move forward with these ideas?"

"Well, Liam has to go first. There's no way we'll even discuss them with Javier with him anywhere near us. Second, we'll need some capital for the business investigations group. They should go up second because it's easy money, but we'll need the equipment and we'll need to hire the right men. In the interim, if Hector can spare some men for this assignment that'll ease hiring concerns."

"So do you think I should leave Diego where he is?"

Manny nods. "I think he's getting used to NYC. His biggest objection to moving there was the weather and the pay. Since you pushed through the differential, even though pay still isn't at equity, it isn't as shitty as it used to be. If you can get it at equity, he'll consider staying. Although," Manny grins at me, "I think he's looking forward to a visit to Texas. Perhaps thinking about a move west?"

Damn. The perfect fit for NYC and he's already mentally planning to leave. No matter. I'll leave him in NYC until San Antonio comes up then the guys will make the decision. Since I promised him first crack, I'll keep my word, but I hope he has NYC back in the black before then.

"Did he say he expected to be an XO?"

"No. He simply said that he intended to do his best, in case the CO had further need of him. He intended to show that he could handle anything she assigned him. Considering he's already a strategist, there's only one more move he could make."

I'm getting familiar with RangeMan understatement. "Assume it's true. Assume we move Diego to TX if he shows promise in NYC. Who do we put in his place?"

"In Miami or NYC?" Oh, hadn't thought about that. Manny shrugs. "Hard to say. I mean, I know this office and I know who I would pull from here, but I think Hal would start screaming if we don't stop poaching from this office."

We both laugh. That's true. Hal is getting nervous about my willingness to poach the guys here. I guess I need to start looking in Atlanta.

"I'd ask Diego, but that would set his XO status as fact in his head, so no. Ask Danny. He might be able to give you the best opinion. Or," Manny sighs, "ask Mark. He knows a majority of the men in the company. His opinion might be skewed but he can at least give you possibilities. I'll start looking around the company at up and comers, but it won't be easy. We have to pair this person against Javier, which means we have to find someone really rash and bold, someone who can push Javier a bit beyond his safety zone."

Shit. I really don't want to ask Mark for anything, but now that I think about it, it's a way to see if he's willing to work with me. He's been on his best behavior lately. Knowing that I came to him for an opinion instead of trying to figure out what I'm up to may make him feel important. I'll try it and see what kind of response I get.

"OK, anything else I need to know?"

"That's the biggest of it. The pipeline is fixable. The XO and strategist are OK. The liaison should be fired. The men need a steady diet of thrashings on the mats to get the idea about the company standards. Pay still needs an increase, but once we get the pipeline fixed we should be good there. I estimate two quarters to fix everything, maybe three. It should definitely be fixed before Leadership Core returns."

I smile. That's great news. "How long do you think you'll need to be there?"

"A quarter, but I'll leave you to tell Hal."

I grimace. Hal's going to put me on monitor duty for this. "Diego?"

"He needs to see it through. Don't move him until the branch is back in the black."

"OK. Manny, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"No problem." Manny grins and hugs me. "Gotta go. Need some sleep and I can see Hal's left lots of paperwork for me."

"Have fun." I walk Manny to the door and I look at my notes.

Manny's given me a lot of really good advice and I've had a thought. I think it might be a good idea to move the strategists around once every year and make them spend a quarter in another branch. It would encourage innovation and new ideas. Plus, every XO is obsessed with keeping his strategist tied to his branch. The strategists need to get out and see what's going on in other branches to avoid getting stale. That's what happened to Shane; he only saw body-guarding and couldn't see past it.

Well, that's my Trojan Horse. Time to hear from the replacement.

* * *

"Diego! How are you?"

"I hate NYC. It's hot, it's muggy, it stinks, and the people are rude. Otherwise, I'm having a great time, Steph."

I blink. OK. Well, a transfer to the Trenton branch is out of the question. "Um, should I take that positively or negatively?"

"Positively. It's my standard complaint for anything north of Orlando."

Ah. Completely understood. I smile. "OK, I get it. Well, I'm glad you're having a great time. Have a moment?"

"Sure. I'm alone. You want an update?"

"Please."

"OK. Where do you want me to start, pipeline or men?"

"Pipeline first, then men."

"OK, pipeline is fixable."

"Great! What's your plan?"

"Manny and I have been working together on a series of new services we can sell here in NYC. The traditional stuff is always on the table, client services, etc. but we have some new things. The biggest is counter-surveillance." Diego goes on to explain exactly what Manny did. Great. They're working together.

"Anything else?"

"Not right now. I'm trying to figure out how to sell these services, how to price them, how to get the buzz going, which leads me to the other assignment, assessing leadership here."

"OK, give me the scoop."

Again, it's the same information as Manny, but with a twist.

"I suspect Liam's working with a competitor, preparing to be shown the door."

OK, Manny didn't say anything about that. "Why? What makes you say that?"

"Well, first thing to understand is that he doesn't trust or like Manny. Manny broke his ass open on the mats in front of the men here for insubordination. It had never happened before, and since he had been the person in charge of mat time here, he was embarrassed as hell. He bears Manny a grudge for that."

OK, so that's confirmed. Liam passed all the information about Manny being disliked because he got his ass handed to him and was embarrassed. Another reason to fire him: I don't care that you don't like my strategist, but don't you **dare** lie about him. I can't wait to tell Les.

"Second, Manny's FBI credentials preceded him here. He assumed that Manny was coming here as a spy instead of a strategist, and he refuses to have much to do with Manny. So, I started noticing that he was taking calls at odd hours, acting suspiciously when he took his calls, and generally refusing to discuss anything he was doing. Bit of eavesdropping led me to overhear a name, CombinedSecurities. Stupid name, but it's a Jersey-based competitor. Pays less than us too. I told Manny, but I doubt he'll say anything to you until he has it confirmed so I'm giving you the heads up."

Wow. OK. "I have no idea what to say to that. I'm just . . . just . . ."

"Yeah. Technically, it's corporate espionage or sabotage. Those are big offenses, which is why Manny will make sure he has proof before he presents it to you. SOPs call for arrest and prosecution at the fullest extent."

Thank you for answering that question, Diego. I was not looking forward to digging through the SOPs. "OK, at the end of this call, I want you to call Hector and tell him everything you just told me. If he's doing it with our property then I'm betting Hector will know how to get the goods."

"Good point. OK, will do. Otherwise, Javier's OK, just needs support. He's really not a bad XO. He's definitely a lot better than I expected. Manny's a beast!" Diego laughs. "That man is scary on the mats and brilliant off them. I'm learning a lot from him and I hope I'm returning the favor. If I get sent to San Antonio, can I take him?"

"Can you take on Hal?"

Diego sobers. "Nevermind. I'll find another strategist. I saw what happened to King. Last thing. Have you heard from Miami, Steph?"

"No, not yet. Why?"

"I have and it's not good. The men are nervous about Shane's ideas, mostly because they're the antithesis of what Ranger has always wanted."

Hmm . . . "Explain."

"Well, as I understand it, Ranger has always said that we are an elite security company. We aren't Rent-a-Cops. Shane wants to patrol retail establishments and malls in Miami. There's money to be made there but it's a status situation. Again, not Rent-a-Cops. If you sell those services to one establishment they all start asking for them. I'll admit, I don't know everything that he's up to, but I suggest you take a look. If he's going after couture houses then that's the appropriate level. If he's going after malls and shopping complexes, you need to run that by Leadership. See what they say."

"OK. Well, this has been a great update. Thanks Diego!"

"No problem, Steph. If you need me, just call."

We disconnect and I call Manny. "Hey, need you back up here."

Manny appears minutes later and grabs two glasses before joining me. "What's up?"

"Corporate sabotage."

Manny exhales and whistles. "Diego?" I nod. "OK. It's not that I didn't want to tell you, Steph. I just don't want to accuse the man without proof. I wasn't the one to catch him, so I'm trying to verify that Diego is right before I ask you to move against him. It's a big charge and it's hard to prosecute without proof."

Ahhh . . . the cop in Manny is being cautious. I can appreciate that. "I understand, but even the accusation is something I think I better tell Tank, Lester, and Bobby. If it's true then I don't want them caught off guard. If it's false, then it's something we'll keep in mind to watch for. What do you need to catch him? I asked Diego to call Hector and tell him everything he told me. If Liam is using our equipment, then I'm sure Hector can catch him."

Manny nods. "True. I just finished talking to Hector about the same thing. I have it 80% verified but I need 95% to feel OK about stitchin' him up. Don't need anything from you right now but you're right. Better tell the Leadership. In the meantime, there are SOPs for this situation and I'm following them."

I bite my lip and consider the alternatives. There are none. I look up at Manny, who's smiling.

"Pages 141-143, Steph."

Thanks, Manny.

* * *

I pick up the phone and call the guys.

"Hey Tank!"

"Hey Little Girl! How's Trenton?"

"Muggy. It's nearly June."

"Hey Beautiful!"

"Hey Bomber!"

"Hey guys. OK, I got the update from Manny and Diego. You ready?"

"Hit us Bomber. What'd he learn?"

I detail everything Manny told me, including the recommendation to fire Liam. It's quiet on the line.

"I'll hit NYC and confirm everything Manny told me, but if it's true that Liam is the biggest leak, he's fired."

"Bomber, don't fire Liam. Let me. Liaisons fall under me and I want to deliver his outgoing ass whooping. Liam was the reason we knew everything going on in NYC, but if the reason that NYC couldn't keep anything to themselves was the fact that he blabbed everywhere, that's a different standard. It's one thing to tell me, another to be indiscriminate, so I wanna see how much he talks when I break his jaw. And since he's proven himself to be a liar, I'll make Manny's mat session seem like child's play."

I wince. Bobby is clearly pissed. It's one of the things I love most about Bobby; he's either happy or pissed. Mostly happy. Then I consider what he said and smile. Great! I avoid having to fire anyone.

"No problem, Bobby. Just let me know when and where so I can attend. I don't appreciate his lies either. For one horrible moment, I doubted Manny and I will never forgive myself for that."

Then I tell them the additional information I got from Diego. There's silence on the line.

"Guys?"

"Need a moment here, Steph," Les replies quietly.

I wait a few minutes. "How's Bobby holding up?"

"I'm sure we're losing a punching bag as we speak, Beautiful." I wince again. Bobby's going to be pissed for a while.

"Should I call ahead to get Liam a bed for traction?"

"You should find his next of kin and declare him missing in action if Manny verifies he's a mole."

OK, that's at an entirely different level. I start considering plausible deniability statements.

Les sighs. "Looks like spidey sense strikes again. You smelled a lie and cautioned me to hold off. I'm glad I did, Steph. Liam should be grateful he's getting Bobby."

I can hear Tank snort. "Grateful? I think not. Bobby knows the human body and you know when he's pissed he uses that knowledge. I suspect every soft, vulnerable bit of Liam's body will be the first areas hit."

I cringe. That's gonna be one **hell** of a mat session. "You guys want the rest of Diego's report or should I wait?"

I can hear Tank sigh. "Nah, give it to us now. Wait! Let me go get Bobby." A few minutes later Tank says, "OK, Steph. Finish us off."

I tell the guys about Shane and his pipeline choices.

"Diego is absolutely right, Beautiful. We aren't Rent-a-Cops. If Shane's targeting couture houses, we're OK with that. Malls, no matter how upscale, are a no. Same with boutiques. Set a baseline revenue standard. Anything above that he can go after. Otherwise, no."

I tell the guys the other decisions I've made, including the idea about moving the strategists around.

"I'm in favor, Beautiful, but hold off on that one. It was one of my early ideas but Ranger was in favor of tying the strategists to the branch. You and me in favor of moving them around might change his mind."

"OK, Les."

"So, Little Girl, what you're telling us is that Javier is a better manager than anticipated but he has fixable weaknesses?"

"I think so. I'm going to visit, not review, and I'll see what else crops up. Bobby?"

"Yeah Bomber?" Bobby's voice is quiet. He's moved beyond pissed.

"Don't break your knuckles. I may need your skills." I get a quiet laugh for that.

"10-4 Bomber. Thank you."

"You guys good?"

"Yeah," Tank answers. "You know, it's fucked up, but I'm starting to look forward to these calls." Everyone laughs and we disconnect.

* * *

**A/N**: OK I will provide a link to a bonus chapter to anyone who can (a) give me the movie inspiration for the title of this chapter; and (b) give me story context for the title. If you can do that, leave me a review and PM me your email address and I'll provide the link to the next chapter. Give me your best guess on (a); you'll probably be right!


	37. What Haven't We Done

**A/N: OK, so I don't expect everyone to love this chapter but, as with everything else I've written so far, there's a method to the madness. Just hold steady with me.**

* * *

**Chapter 37: What haven't we done?**

**Lester's POV**

Tank and I simply look at each other. Tonight's call was almost as bad as the original NYC call.

Bobby has gone back to the gym and he will need to have Tank check his knuckles later. I call down to the gym and tell Chester Deuce not to allow anyone near the company liaison right now. Not till he calms down. Otherwise, he's liable to kill someone. Ches is stunned by the level of force in my voice. No need, he replies. Bobby looked murderous, and that scared Ches shitless. He's never seen that look on Bobby's face, and Ches's first response was to close the gym to everyone. He's keeping an eye on Bobby from the doorway, where it's safe.

Tank opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head. Not right now, bro. I need a minute too.

I walk into my office and shut the door. When the **FUCK** did we allow the company to get like this? How did we miss all these issues? Where did we go wrong? I've always prided myself on being detail oriented, on assessing the target and meeting goals. So how did I miss that we have a branch headed into collapse? How did we miss the bonds issues in Atlanta?

What on earth will Steph find next?

I realize that I, too, have been guilty of underestimating my dearest friend. I've always seen Steph as a lightweight. Well, once I got over the fantasies of seeing her naked in my bed. Pretty but not serious about anything. Loyal but too easily guilted into situations out of her control. Tenacious but not likely to do things in the most straightforward, common-sense way. Steph has survived on a combination of luck, being in the right place at the right time, getting people to like and talk to her, and tenacity. The real reason we set the year goal at 6%? So she could make up her deficit to us. That's it. Now it's clear that Steph's going to blow that number out of the water and, well, talk about a kick in the balls.

Steph has taken my company and turned over all the nasty bits for us to see. She's found issues in Atlanta we didn't even realized existed. She came up with a fucking brilliant plan to save NYC and has uncovered liars, incompetents, and sabotage.

Steph's a fucking GREAT leader. Shit, she **IS** Ranger.

I find my tequila and take a shot. The burn is welcome. Otherwise, I might shed a very unmanly tear right now.

When I first proposed putting her in charge, I never expected it to take on this level of importance and seriousness. First, Steph has never stayed at RangeMan for long, just when she needed money, so I expected her to leave at the end of the year. Now I don't give a damn what I have to pay her, I need her to stay. Second, this plan was about improving **her** and bringing her up to our standards so Ranger could consider a future with her.

We're getting everything **we** wanted in goals A-F, but I forgot something big. Something huge.

I forgot to factor in the 'Plum Curve'.

So let's reassess and factor that in. What are we left with?

I underestimated Steph based on her personal life. I fed her a line of bullshit about the fact that she handles her professional life better than her personal life, but it's not bullshit. It's the truth. I forgot to factor in Steph's commitment to responsibility, her natural willingness to please, when it comes to Ranger. We've set up a perfect storm of events to tie Steph to Ranger and RangeMan so thoroughly that she accepts her position as CO beyond what we ever expected.

She's taking it seriously. Very seriously.

She's 'becoming' Ranger, with all the consequences that implies. She's determined to do the best for him, and maybe for us too, simply because we placed her in charge. She has far more skills than I gave her credit for and she's using all of them because we told her we believe in her. She doesn't like to fail publicly so she's pushing herself to succeed, not just in the standards but in company matters as well.

And she's accepting that, at least in company matters, to lead means to follow. To make sure the XOs know what they're doing, have what they need, and have the freedom to do their jobs. Where they need the assistance, the help, she's providing what she can and working with them to make it better. She's willing to go to bat for them, even against us.

It just helps that her naturally devious mind has come up with some brilliant solutions.

Ranger once said the most powerful phrase he could say to her was 'Proud of you, Babe'. I brushed it off, thinking that 'I love you' was a better choice (if he ever stopped being a chicken shit), but he was right. To tell her he was proud of her was to tell her he loved her, he believed in her, he approved of her choices or actions, and that he refused to believe she could ever fail him.

Inspired, I surf the web, looking for the meaning of pride, the way it's been expressed through the ages. I find, oddly enough, that Michael Crichton's definition suits Beautiful the best. It suits what Ranger has been saying to her best.

"_All your life, other people will try to take your accomplishments away from you. Don't you take it away from yourself."_

* * *

**Tank's POV**

I'm not quite sure what has happened today, but I know one thing.

If I have to beg and plead and grovel, Stephanie Michelle Plum will stay in her position as CO until I retire. I'm willing to do it. Hell, I'm willing to talk to make it happen.

What Steph has done is beyond anything we ever expected. I can tell that Les is completely thrown and he's probably in his office right now beating himself up for not catching all the problems my Little Girl is finding. I'm not going to do that. I'm not blaming myself.

We've been so in the weeds trying to keep Trenton afloat and trying to cover up the bleeding there that we allowed the XOs to handle their branches. We allowed them to make the calls they thought appropriate. That's why we pay the fuckers: so we don't have to micromanage them. Now we're finding that the reason for the bleeding in Trenton is finding issues all over the company, and I'm surprised and pleased to see she's taking it seriously.

She's taking Ranger seriously.

She's taking his life, i.e. his company, seriously.

She's doing everything she can to fix and stem the bleeding and problems all over the company. She's putting her skills as an investigator to work to stop the losses and put the company back to rights.

I'm not blaming her for the problems at the other branches. That's not her fault. I'm simply acknowledging that, for the first time in four years, significant attention can be paid to the other branches because we don't have to cover Trenton all the time.

Honestly, to me, this is almost poetic justice. The cause of the problems with Trenton's bottom line is finding all the issues at every other branch.

As a matter of fact, the more I think about it, the funnier it is to me. I allow myself a chuckle or two and consider breaking open my tequila. It's a good plan, so I reach for the shot glasses and bottle just as Bobby walks through the door. His hands have been taped.

"How long you gonna be out?" I ask.

"At least a week," he replies tiredly, dropping into the chair.

"Think you can manage a tequila?"

"God yes. Hell, pass the fucking bottle."

I smile and pass the bottle over. He swigs directly from it. Bobby has an iron constitution; it'll take ¾ of the bottle to knock him out. Les finally walks in. He shed a tear or two, I can tell. Yeah, he blamed himself. Time to take charge, to be the Staff Sergeant in charge.

"It's not our fault."

I get two disbelieving looks at that.

"No, seriously, it's not our fault."

"Explain," Bobby says, astonished.

"We've spent four years covering her ass. Riding to her rescue. Covering how much she truly cost us. Delaying our overall corporate plans. Waiting for her and Ranger to figure out their shit. Waiting for her to figure out **her** shit. Hell, our Trenton SOPs have an entire chapter on dealing with her various issues.

This plan started as an attempt to make her see reason, to shove it into her face how much she costs, to make her take herself and her life seriously so Ranger could see a life with her. And we've succeeded. Beyond our wildest fucking imaginations, we've succeeded."

I take another shot of tequila and smile. "She's acknowledged her red ink. She's apologized to us and to the new Trenton Core. She's taking them seriously. Hector forced her to start taking her own life seriously when he told her to stop putting his at risk. She's in training to meet our standards. And I can't read her as well as you do Les, but I'm betting she made a choice. I'm betting she finally chose Ranger."

I sit back and grin. The more I think on this, the happier I am.

"I'm a happy muthafucka right now, and here's why: the person responsible for all the red ink at RangeMan Trenton is paying us back. Not only has she not caused any issues at RMTrenton to require them to bleed money, but she's uncovering issues all over the company. She's helped Danny fix Atlanta's budget issues and taught them her secrets to skip apprehension. The men there love her. She listened to Javier, followed her instincts to send Manny in, and by the way Les, you were right about developing his skills and letting him run free. Anyway, he uncovered numerous issues at NYC and between them they've got the fix underway.

Without even meaning to, she's put all the XOs on notice that they can be reviewed and/or fired at any time, so for the first time in four years they're being reminded that they are not little fiefdoms with no overlords. Her 'management review' program has them shaking in their boots, wondering what shit she'll uncover at their offices. Gentlemen, for the first time in four years, hell, **for the first time**, we have true corporate management within our company, and it's headed by the woman we all love but were prepared to kick to the curb just a few short weeks ago."

I chuckle and wait for the response. Slowly but surely, Bobby starts to chuckle, then laugh. Les finally joins us, still disbelieving but in stitches all the same. Within minutes we're in hysterics like we haven't been since Lester screamed bloody murder after taking a cross-dresser home and nearly sleeping with him.

Chester Deuce, who's been serving as my backup at this office, pokes his head through the door. Through the crack I can see every current RangeMan standing on the other side, wondering what in the hell is going on. Leadership Core is on the floor of my office laughing like they've lost their minds.

"We're fine. Close the door," I choke out. Bobby has tears running down his cheeks and Les is crying and laughing all at the same time. This shit's too funny. This is a Leadership Core thing. Chester blinks then shuts the door behind him.

The laughter lasts at least five minutes, and I have a headache at the end. I look at my brothers and grin. "My first thought when I walked in here was that this was poetic justice. Only with Steph could this shit happen."

Bobby shakes his head. "You're right. This is payback for all the insanity. She's earning that salary, boys." He looks at Les. "You can't take this on yourself, bro. Javier has some responsibility here too. He should've asked for help long before now. There's loyalty and there's stupidity. The first had merged with the second."

Les shakes his head. "No, I have to own this. We all do. Javier has been begging for help for the past six months. Think about it. He constantly called about the pay issues and needing help figuring out why they couldn't grow. The man called on us repeatedly and we didn't heed his call. We didn't provide the brotherhood we're so famous for. We left him to die."

We all sit back and sober up. Les is right. We left Javi swinging in the breeze, and if the branch had collapsed, we might have blamed him for it.

"The biggest reason I left Javi in his position is because he could always justify his actions. He had proof behind his decisions. He didn't just do shit for the sake of doing it."

Les shakes his head, and Bobby and I ignore him while he wipes a tear away. He's taking this hard. He sees it as a personal failure and he's right. We owe Javier a lot more than an apology.

"So yeah, I _want_ to blame Steph for being the reason I failed to drop in on NYC like I should have, and I'm sure if I go look at the schedules I made it will coincide with some emergency of hers, but still. NYC is, what, two hours away at most? I could have day tripped it there once a week. I could have done a 'one week there, one week in Trenton' thing. There were other ways I could have handled it. I'm sorry, but I left Javier out there with his ass swinging in the breeze and I should have helped him more. That's supposed to be **my** home office. I should never have let things reach that point."

Bobby and I nod. If nothing else, this is proving the extent to which we've allowed the company to slide. Atlanta had serious budget instability and NYC was on the verge of collapse. Trenton couldn't keep the bottom line. Only Miami and Boston weren't having problems, and Les says that both he and Steph have their instincts ringing about Miami. Sweet Jesus, what will my Little Girl find there?

Les sighs. "There is one other point I want to make." He takes a swig and continues. "Steph blamed Mark for the rampant paranoia in the company, for the lack of trust among branches. Well, she's wrong in that assessment. That started at the top, with us. We were so determined to hide what was going on from the company that we set up the conditions for the problem. Knowing Mark wanted to become a partner, we sought to thwart him by cutting him off from information, which only turned him into a rabid bloodhound. We should've had Ranger body check him when it first started."

I think about that and I have to agree. Les is right on that point.

Les chuckles then laughs. "But, at the end of the day, it still comes back to the fact that Steph is her own worst enemy. Shit, I was so scared to leave Trenton for fear that she might kill herself, or someone might try to kill her, that I stopped keeping an eye on the ball. I love her so much I was willing to let the company slide to hell to keep her alive." Bobby and I nod, sober. Same here, Les. Same here. "So, shit, I can't blame Ranger for his ops anymore. I finally understand his reasoning. So I'm stuck between wanting to help her clean that one up and wanting to let her handle it." Les grins. "Like you said Tank, payback for all the times we covered her ass."

I nod. "Let her handle it. The company is hers to run. The problems at the other branches are not her fault but," I shrug and take a swig, "for the first time in four years, we have corporate management. If nothing else, this proves that we're great security experts but we really do need another layer of management to ensure everything runs smoothly. We know how to do the job of security and we know how to develop men and business. Ranger's a great manager, when you can tie his ass to a chair to do the fucking job, but between the ops and his hatred of office work," I shrug.

Les and Bobby nod. It's a constant source of annoyance for us, the fact that Ranger hates doing the office stuff, but he's the best at it. Bobby's second, but he has enough on his plate. I hate office work. I develop men, not forms. So far, Steph's turning out to be spectacular at it, but she's another Ranger. She **hates** being tied to an office and we already know this.

"We need to make sure our Little Girl stays to ensure the job of business is getting done. She's there now, so from now on, we only intervene when necessary. We said we believe in her, so we're putting our money where our mouths are. We'll make sure she knows she can do whatever the hell pops into her mind. She's the CO. It's her company to run."

Bobby smiles. "I just had a scary thought. Wanna know?" We nod, intrigued. "We set a goal of 6% because we wanted Steph to make up her deficit. Where's the company at now and what could Steph possibly hit at the end of the year if she cleans everything up?"

Les and I sit back, eyes wide. Scary thought indeed. I look at Bobby and Les, imagining the possibilities.

We all nod. My brothers and I are in agreement.

The CO is going to earn her salary this year.

* * *

**Bobby's POV**

I'm nowhere close to drunk, but I'm extremely happy. Tank is right. This is payback.

The laughing jag was great medicine. For the first time in months, I let go of all the anger and frustration I still carried around over Steph. I love her dearly, would take on any enemy for her and wipe away her tears, but I was just pissed about the entire situation. The Cop, Ranger, his contracts, her inability to make up her damn mind, Ranger's inability to man up and confess he loved her, although I could understand the situation from both their viewpoints. They'd both said stupid things to each other. Neither of them could be truthful with the other about their feelings. They were in an unending game of 'chicken' and all of it had just combined to piss me off beyond reason, but I finally accepted that, well, shit happens, especially when she's involved.

It takes two to tango, and I'm finally accepting that Ranger bears responsibility for this fucked-up sequence of events also. I was pinning it all on Steph, which wasn't right and it wasn't fair to her. The man loves the woman. He should've had the balls to tell her before now. OK, so it might've meant putting himself out there. Anyone looking at them could tell Steph was in love with him, even after all the bullshit he's fed her. Instead he chose to put himself into danger and keep his mouth closed. He lied to her, she lied to herself, The Cop, and the world, and we all watched this dance in confusion and frustration.

They deserve each other. Neither one knows how to open their mouths and be truthful. That's going to be a match made in . . . I'm not even sure.

Ranger, the king of one word sentences and quick getaways.

Steph, who hasn't met a question or thought she can't avoid, the resident Queen of Denial Land.

I chuckle. The King and Queen of Denial Land. That's it! It's a match made in Denial Land, for sure.

* * *

The next morning, we meet in Tank's office to review the paperwork. Screw everything else, let's look at the state of our company. Chester and the boys can handle it for one day.

Lester reviews the financial reports for the past six months, moving line by line to determine if there's anything funky going on. Tank and I have split the Core Team reports for each branch, and we're taking it one step further by reviewing all the direct report submissions from within each branch.

It's illuminating reading.

Because of personal interest, I start with Atlanta. The XO reports before and after Steph's visit are remarkably different. Before her visit, it contains reasons and explanations for the budget instability. Requests to move into Hospitality that I continually denied until they got the budget straight. Requests to redeploy men east, which I held off, again because of budget concerns. Why the fuck didn't I ask more questions about why the budget was so damn unstable?

After her visit, it's a brag report of successes, with issues Danny would like her to review before he moves forward. It has requests from the men, for a review of ideas that have been funneled up to Danny that they would like to discuss with her. It contains info on the financials he wants to make certain is brought to her attention. The budget is stable, Bonds Enforcement is making money hand over fist and Marcus is overjoyed with their success. He's working his APD (Atlanta Police Department) contacts to get info to go after more bonds and enforcement work and open up the possibility of consulting contracts. Outstanding!

Chase's reports are incredible. The company reputation in Atlanta is improving. Bomber's advice has put them on the fast track to getting bids. They don't have to chase bids for Hospitality contracts anymore; people are coming to them. My cousin is thrilled and is ready to start negotiating for more venues, but he wants to talk to her first. Adam is getting the Charlotte office up and running, but he has questions for her to address and has found possible office space that he would like to forward to us (Leadership Core) for review. He wants to know what he needs to do to make this office a success. Nate has identified a conference or two he'd like to attend with an eye to scoping out the climate for attracting small businesses to mirror their servers to us (Hector's idea).

Completely different reading. Open, direct and enthusiastic. Steph helped them fix their problems and has given them approval to move forward with ideas I blocked, demanding they get those problems fixed first. She's won their trust. They want her assistance, her approval. They value her opinion. Wonderful!

She's validated my trust in her all over again. I no longer worry that she'll make standards. I know she will. She can do any damn thing she wants, as long as someone believes in her. We do. She'll do it.

Miami contains a bunch of very angry men. They're angry about the SharePoint deployment, they're angry about the server farm (really? That decision is four years old!), they're angry they're not being reviewed first, they're angry they don't know what the criteria for all this 'review' stuff is. They're angry.

I'm tempted to call Armando and tell him to tell his men to piss off.

I look over at Tank. He's amused.

"Trenton?"

"Hal keeps putting a postscript in his reports that if the CO keeps taking his Core Team away, he's going to stick her on monitor duty again."

I nearly piss myself laughing. Les is wiping his eyes. Again, we break out the tequila and toast Hal's balls.

Tank shakes his head. "Jesus, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm beyond proud of the white boy from Kansas. Fucker is definitely earning his bonus check."

Les and I nod; Hal's balls are closing in on legendary status.

Tank grins. "Hal believes he may have passed Boston as the most profitable branch."

We look at Les, who grins. "He's close. He's in second, with Danny right on his heels. If Mark's not careful, those two will knock him to third."

Damn! That's spectacular! He's done it as a brand new XO with less than six months in his tenure, all while having his Core Team in and out of the branch on assignment for the CO and the CCO (Chief Commanding Officer, the new internal title for Ranger to distinguish between Bomber and Ranger). From last to second? That takes leadership and creativity. Hal's proving himself as an XO. Ram and Manny are proving themselves as liaison and strategist. We'll have to see what happens when Steph is cleared to be back in the field. If she continues to perform as she has and they can continue to grow the branch, then the three of them are looking at an impressive bonus check at the end of the year.

Mark will never make Leadership Core as long as I have breath in my body, but Hal is starting to look like a possibility. Him and Danny. Strong XOs with leadership skills, drive, tenacity, and creativity. The kind of men we served under and the kind of men we hope we're serving as. Yes, if Hal and Danny can keep this up, we may extend a partnership level to them. We'll have to talk about that at some point.

Tank is shaking his head and frowning. Boston. Has to be.

"Mark?"

"Something fishy in this report." I grab the liaison part of the stack and start reading. I agree; something's off. Lester grabs the strategist reports. An hour later we look up. Les is smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts someone. Has to be Ranger. Sure enough, two minutes later the phone rings.

"Aguilar." Ah. OK.

"Company matters," Lester replies.

Silence. "Two minutes." We wait. "OK."

"Boston in April?"

"Yes."

"Nature of threat."

"Ice breaking at the top."

"How many cracks?"

"Three."

"10-4." Les hangs up and smiles. "OK, now it makes sense."

"Good." Tank replies. "Now make it make sense to me. I think I understood that but let's be sure."

"That voicemail with the recorded convo Beautiful sent in April. Remember?" I nod. Mark was dead man walking as of that call. "Ranger was in Boston. He told Mark that he was skating on thin ice and the ice was breaking under his feet. He warned Patrick and Rodney of the same."

Now these reports make total sense. In an effort to prevent Mark from being fired, Patrick and Rodney have been doing the digging.

"Any findings in yours?" Tank asks me.

I shake my head. "Veiled suppositions. It's clear that Rodney doesn't want to be fired so he's straddling a line. He's keeping his promise to his XO to try to find something, but he's not finding anything. My guess: No one is talking."

We look at Les.

"Nothing. Accusations that 'failure to give them an understanding of the standard upon which the management review will be based is unreasonable because it doesn't allow them to prepare their supporting documentation in a timely fashion'. Bullshit basically."

"So what's got you nervous?" I ask Tank.

"Nothing now. Clearly Ranger handled the problem and handed Mark his ass. The reports before and after that little visit are remarkably different." Les and I nod.

OK, so where Steph has been she's won over the company. Where she hasn't, they're nervous.

And after two months in her tenure, the company has grown 3.5%. I'm almost afraid to think of what the growth might look like at the end of the year. 12%? Is that unreasonable? Could she double our expectations? Could she hit an even higher number? I'm dizzy at the thought.

Ms. Plum is earning her paycheck. I wonder how much pleading I'll have to do to convince her to stay.

* * *

**A/N: Side Story tomorrow. Hector v. Edna: The Truce!**


	38. Caught Off Guard

**A/N: Conversations in **_**Italics**_** understood to be in Spanish. Also, if you have dub-con triggers, be prepared.**

* * *

**Chapter 38: Caught Off Guard**

**Armando's POV**

The call comes at noon, just as I'm leading my family from the church. I pull my girls back from the street and make them take their abuela's hands.

"Yo!"

"Armando!"

It's Thomas and he's in a panic. I wonder what could have happened.

"What?"

"What the **fuck** man! The CO is here! Why didn't you say anything?"

**OH HOLY SHIT!** She's here? Today? It's Sunday. We aren't ready. My branch isn't ready. We didn't get any advance notice. We haven't prepped. What the fuck is going on?

"I didn't know she was coming, man. Just hold the fort. I'm coming in." _Click_.

Mariela and my Mama are looking at me with frowns on their faces. Before I can say a word, Mariela cuts me off.

"Short of that building blowing up, you will not go in today. I don't care what's going on."

"_Querida_, my boss just popped up. It's her first visit to Miami as the head, and we know she's doing management reviews. I don't know if we'll be graded on this, so I have to go."

"No. You will not go. You will call her and ask her if you need to report in. It's Sunday and you are spending time with the family. If she's any kind of woman, she'll understand and respect that, but if it is an emergency you can go in. Otherwise, you are a dead man if you leave my side today."

My mama is nodding. I fear my wife as much as Ranger, so I make the call.

"Stephanie, it's Armando. Thomas tells me that you are here. I apologize for not being there to welcome you personally."

"Hi, Armando. Yes, I'm here for personal reasons. You can tell the men to stand down. I told Thomas, but he still looks worried. Hector is with me, and we'll be in and out, but this is not your review. We aren't staying long."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Mariela was correct, as usual.

"OK, Stephanie. If you need anything, just call. I assume you've made it to Ranger's apartment and you and Hector are settled in OK?" I hope that apartment was cleaned after Ranger left.

"Yup, we're fine. Thanks a lot, Armando. Goodbye." _Click_.

Mariela looks smug. "Not needed at the office, are you?"

I shake my head. _Gracias a Dios_. I need to make sure we're ready. If she's sneaking into offices, I never want to be caught off guard again.

* * *

The next morning, I'm on the floor at 0750. The men are waiting. I've already had a trying night. Hector called and requested assistance. I had no choice. Mariela was not pleased, but it was Hector. I didn't even consider **not** going. I reminded Mariela of Hector's rep and she nodded, pouting.

"Is this our review?" Pedro asks.

I shake my head. "No, the CO is here for personal reasons."

Antonio sniffs. "This sneaking in shit is disrespectful. She could have given us a heads up so we wouldn't panic. Every man here thought the review had started, and we didn't like being caught off guard."

I shrug. "She's entitled to run her reviews as she pleases but as I said, she's here for personal reasons. She doesn't have to give us a heads up if it's personal." My response is not placating anyone.

"Who's the guy with her? Scary looking fucker." Matt is new, white, and clueless. We hired him for tech.

Pedro smirks. "Hector."

Interesting to watch the white boy go pale. He's now seen his boss, the gangland legend.

"Why is he here?" Antonio asks, curious.

"Dunno. Maybe he and Hal traded off," I reply. I'm trying to be very careful with this answer. I don't want the men to know that Hector is the CO's partner. "Where do you guys have him set up?"

"In the best apartment on 7," Thomas replies, joining us. "He's up and moving. Better get in place. Even if this isn't our review, he's moving around like he's doing his own review. Matt, you better look like you know what's up. And call Silvio. Make sure he knows his boss is here and moving around."

Antonio and Matt nod and walk to the stairwell, Matt a little shaky. Thomas and Pedro turn to me.

"I don't know," I tell them. "She didn't say. All she said was that they wouldn't be staying long."

"Do I need to inform Piman?" Pedro asks.

I pale. "**Hell No!** Under no circumstances is Piman to be informed that the CO is here."

"That's a break with SOPs, Mando," Pedro replies. "Piman is supposed to be kept informed when anyone in Leadership is here."

"She's not Leadership Core, so my decision stands. Piman is not to be told."

Pedro shrugs. "OK."

Pedro leaves and Thomas and I look at each other.

"Think you're making a mistake on that one, Mando. SOPs are clear. Sure you don't want to kick that one up to Leadership Core for a judgment?"

I frown. Perhaps he's right. "Let me think about it."

Thomas nods and we move to my office. "I checked with Maria yesterday before she left. The apartments were cleaned last week, so they're fresh and tidy. I gave the CO Ranger's car keys yesterday." He smiles. "You should've seen her face when I handed her the Lamborghini keys. She started muttering something about 'car karma', which made Hector smile."

I stop. "A real smile?"

Thomas chuckles. "Well, more of a smirk."

I contemplate what that might look like on Hector's face. It's a scary thought.

"Once I stopped panicking, I realized that I might have a clue what she's here for," Thomas says, getting comfortable in my chair. I sit on the edge of my desk and raise an eyebrow. "Julie graduates middle school on Wednesday. I'm betting she's here for that. I know from Juan and Mike that they keep in touch."

Juan and Mike are Julie's primary bodyguards. They keep us up to date on everything Julie is willing to share about her life. Now that she's becoming a woman, we learn a lot less than we used to. I consider this and nod. Yes, if this is a short, personal visit, then she's probably here for that. Ranger isn't here, as far as we know, and she has no other ties to Miami. Other than a branch review, this is the only reason the CO could be in Miami.

"OK. Hector?"

Thomas shrugs. "Unknown." With that, Thomas leaves.

I have more information than anyone. I haven't shared the knowledge that Hector is the CO's partner with anyone. I realized that this was a prime opportunity to allow my men to act as stupid as they wanted and get clobbered by the leadership.

I love my wife, daughters, and all the women in my life, and the attitudes of the men I manage disgust me. I've tried running an attitude adjustment, but it failed. Honestly, sometimes I think it's like living in a frat house. Being managed by a woman over the next year will be a wake-up call for this office.

"_Sleeping on the job?"_

I jerk in my chair and find Hector standing grim-faced on the other side of my desk. I try to put myself in some kind of order.

"_No. Thinking."_

Hector stares at me, then smirks. I notice that my office door is closed. Hector takes out a box and turns it on. Holy shit! He nods. Apparently there aren't any bugs in my office.

"_I have intel to follow up on for the CCO all week. Expect more late night calls. I'll be in and out in his Mercedes. _

I nod. I know better than to take notes.

"_Stephanie is here for Julie's graduation. Whenever the CO leaves this building, she will be with me."_

I nod. Thanks, Thomas.

"_The CCO is back in the area. He will also attend the graduation. You have no knowledge of his presence and you will pretend surprise when the cameras are scrambled."_

Thank you, Hector. I had no idea. I'll make sure my blank face is in place.

"_We leave Friday morning."_

I nod.

"_You weren't here to greet your boss yesterday because . . . ?" _He does not look pleased.

"_My wife threatened to have my balls if I left her side for anything less than this building exploding. I got into enough trouble for my late night excursion."_

Hector stares at me, then smirks. _"Would've been your ass had you not had a good excuse. Send her my apologies and take her out to dinner on me."_ He walks to the door, stops, and turns around smiling that scary ass smile. _"By the way, I'll need your help again tonight. I'll need to 'interview' those friends of ours."_ With that, Hector leaves.

I go to the bathroom. Talks with Hector always leave me feeling a little weak-kneed.

* * *

**Steph's POV—Sunday**

Miami! Hector tells me that now is a good time to visit. It's May, not ridiculously hot, but nice. The spring break and snowbird crowds are gone but the summer crowds aren't here yet. Wonderful. I'm officially out of the cast too, and I can finally move around with ease as long as I take it easy. No more wheelchairs!

This time I'm staying in Ranger's apartment on 8, and it's almost a complete carbon copy of the Trenton apartment with one twist.

I found a picture of myself and Julie in a nightstand.

It was buried under a few books and a phone book, but it's the first personal item I've found in any of Ranger's living spaces. I made sure to put it back in the correct spot, but I'm still surprised by it.

Ranger has a picture of me. And not some grainy security camera picture. This is the kind of picture you'd take with a high powered camera and lens and I was in one of my favorite distraction outfits. Tight black dress and 4" FMPs with full makeup and hair. Julie's picture was a recent school picture, complete with the braces she just told me about. She looked gorgeous, like a feminine version of Ranger.

I'm trying not to think about the significance of this discovery.

I hear a knock at the door and someone walk in. Must be Hector.

"_Angelita?_"

"Ready."

Due to the estimated temperature, Hector suggested a maxi dress and low sandals. He also suggested no makeup, but I'm a Jersey girl. I don't understand the meaning of that phrase.

I walk out and Hector grins.

"You're going to regret the makeup. I promise you."

"Fine. Find me a makeup counter and a consultant who can teach me Miami makeup, but I'm a Jersey girl. I will never walk around without it."

We walk downstairs and Hector steers me to the bay holding Ranger's five cars. Five! A Lamborghini, a Mercedes SL-550 convertible, a Mercedes S-600 sedan, a Ford F-150, and a Porsche Cayenne Turbo S.

"Least expensive one, please, Hector." I can't imagine blowing one of these cars up in Miami. I don't think I could bear the shame.

Hector grins and steers me to the convertible. This cannot be the cheapest one. We climb in and Hector disables the audio monitoring. "I didn't feel like climbing in and out the truck."

I don't want to consider what these cars cost if the convertible is the second least expensive car.

* * *

We head out to the mall. Today's objective is to find something appropriate for Julie's graduation. I have no idea what to buy and I'm hoping to be inspired.

Last week, I spoke to Rachel and she said that she had been in talks with Ranger, via Hector, to get Julie a phone, but they disagreed on which phone she should have. Rachel was pushing for something simple and inexpensive; Hector was pushing for an iPhone.

"Well, I can't tell you what to get Julie, but I can say that I love my iPhone. I'm sure they've put tracking devices in here, but I love that I can text, video chat, keep up with my schedule and email, and surf the web all in one go. It's literally become a life saver for me."

"Yes," Rachel replied, "that's what Hector says, but those things are so expensive and it's like having a 'Rob Me' tag around your neck with the white ear buds."

"Well, you can always get her different ear buds, but consider this: if the phone is stolen, we'll be able to get it back in hours with all the tracking I'm sure the RangeMen will put on it. And if something happens to Julie, god forbid, we'll know her last known location because of the phone."

Rachel laughed. "You really are selling this phone."

I laughed. "I'm only telling you the reasons I'm sure Hector used to convince Ranger to buy this phone for me."

Rachel called me Friday night and said that she had agreed to the iPhone. Hector was having it shipped to them. I asked her if she had heard anything from Ranger. No. Ranger had discussed this idea with Hector before he left and Hector was carrying out orders.

We finally arrive at the mall and I consider options. It doesn't take long. I find a pretty pink and black leather wristlet designed to hold an iPhone on one side and credit cards/ID on another. It's perfect. I have it embossed with Julie's name and buy two $100 iTunes cards for her. It's the perfect gift.

I'm glad I decided on this so quickly. My makeup is running and Hector is smirking.

"Macy's?"

"Smug does not look good on you."

That makes Hector laugh out loud. I notice that Hector is getting a lot of attention from great looking guys in this mall. I consider my partner. 5'9", slim, muscular build, close cropped black hair, persistent 5 o'clock shadow. Wilmer Valderrama? Hector is definitely eye candy for either sex.

"Quit."

"What?" I know my face has given me away.

"You're trying to set me up with the men you see. Don't."

"Why not?"

Hector smiles. "I'm incredibly picky. You won't come close."

I wonder what Hector's type is.

"Don't. I won't tell you my type."

I pout. Just for that, we're going to spend quality time in Macy's, and tonight I'm going to work on my blank face again.

An hour later, I have everything a Miami girl needs to manage makeup and I have to admit, my face feels lighter. I don't appear to have on less makeup, but what I have on is better. I'm certain they don't sell any of this in Jersey. This was $400 well spent. Hector spent his time at the cologne counters. I've found my partner's weakness; he has at least three bottles.

Hector is shaking his head. "$400 of war paint. It's cheaper to tattoo."

The makeup consultant and I are scandalized. What would I do when the seasons changed?

"What did you buy?" I ask.

"Issey Miyake. My personal scent." I sniff the tester. This does smell like Hector.

I head to the cologne counters. "What's Ranger's?"

Hector smiles. "Scent is personal, _chica_."

I spend at least an hour at the perfume counters trying to pick out Ranger's scent. I fail completely, but I do pick out Tank (Polo Black), Bobby (John Varvatos) and Lester (D&G The One. Surprise surprise). I'm stumped and I have a headache.

"Stop sniffing, _chica_," Hector says. "After about 10 scents, you lose the ability to distinguish subtleties between them. Let's move to shoes and we'll come back." I glare at Hector, who smiles. "What? Am I supposed to be unaware that that was your plan?"

We head to the shoe department, where I immediately pick out the most beautiful FMPs I can find. I love my salary; FMPs are always within my reach now. I see Hector pick up a pair of BCBG's, check the price tag, and shrug.

"I don't get it. No matter how I try, I cannot understand high heels. Explain."

I look at Hector, stumped. How do I explain high heels?

"Explain Issey Miyake to me."

I see Hector consider it. "Understood."

I smile.

* * *

Dinner is Cuban at a little restaurant Hector is familiar with. I'm certain he's familiar with the place because the moment we walk in, the place falls silent. The Maître D' hurries over immediately.

"_Sir. Welcome to Amina. Your regular table?"_

Hector merely inclines his head. He's put on his 'polite smile' blank face. We are immediately shown to a table in the back. Hector sits facing the doorway, and I can see that no one can sneak up on our table in any direction without Hector seeing. It's like dining with Ranger.

"_You're a regular?"_

Hector smirks. _"I was. At one point in my life."_

The meal is delicious. Hector merely lifts an eyebrow when I ask if I have to eat according to standards.

"_If you can find something that meets standards."_

I checked the menu, but it was impossible. I also realize that the Spanish lessons with Hector are really paying off. I can read the majority of the menu. Everyone in the restaurant gives us excellent service and although I'm sure that everyone here is carrying, Hector is as relaxed as I've ever seen him in public.

"_Safe here?"_

"_No. But no one will move against me."_

Well. There's a thought. Here's another: our entire conversation was in Spanish. I'm getting better!

I spend the evening working on my blank face. I'm determined to get this down before Ranger comes home. I can now control my eyebrows and shoulders and Hector now has to work to read my face. He's only calling my cards 75% of the time now. Finally, Hector leaves for the night and I take a bath. The air is on, the bed smells of Ranger, and I have a busy day tomorrow. I need a good night's sleep.

* * *

The air must have gone off. I'm hot and twisting in the bed but I can't find any relief. I feel . . . I'm not sure.

Hot.

Heavy.

Tight.

Wound up.

I feel . . . I feel . . .

Like this had better be Ranger sucking my nipple.

The moment I have this thought, the orgasm hits. I'm sailing through time and space, when I hear Ranger moan in whispers.

"_Yes . . . Oh God yes, Babe . . . yes, don't stop . . . don't . . . oh god Babe, you feel so good . . . so sweet . . . my sweet Babe . . . my sweet love . . . yes . . . oh, yes, Babe, more, yes, right, oh . . . "_

I understand every word. Every word he's moaning. I finally know what he's saying to me! Studying every word he could possibly utter in my Spanish/English dictionary has paid off.

I'm kissing every inch of skin I can reach and I've wrapped my legs around his waist when I feel Ranger come deep inside me. I open my eyes to find him staring at me, eyes coal black and blazing. He's panting, trying to catch his breath, and so am I. I lean up to kiss him and he takes over, nibbling my bottom lip and kissing me as if he's trying to rob me of air.

He slides down my body and begins sucking my breasts again, rolling his tongue gently around my nipples. I realize the light blanket is gone and, without Ranger covering my body, I break out in goose bumps from the air hitting my skin. Ranger's stroking my thighs, drawing small circles on my skin.

This is too much. I'm ready to crawl out of my skin. Ranger has amazing recovery.

"I want on top," I whisper. Ranger's eyes meet mine and he rolls us over gently.

Now that I have control, I slide back up his body slowly. I can feel him shudder and I smile. I start with his lips, his beautiful, sexy lips. He looks as if he's thinking about smiling, and I use my tongue to gently outline his lips. Now he is smiling and he's moved his hands to my waist. I take control of the kiss and enjoy the feel of his mouth, his tongue, the smile on his lips as he kisses me.

I use Ranger's chest to lever myself up and place a leg on either side of his body. I'm rewarded with a bump from Ranger, so I grind back. I take my time and kiss every inch of skin I can see. There's a lot of skin and, since I've already come, I can be patient, especially since some parts need more attention than others. Ranger smells fresh and clean, and sex-funky, but I don't smell any lingering cologne. I wonder what cologne he wears.

Now that I understand Spanish, I can see Ranger likes to whisper dirty things to me.

"_Oh you sweet little tease . . . Te extrañé . . . yes, kiss me right there . . . I'm going to make you pay later . . .oh yes . . . oh, te vas a to go me insane . . . sweet Jesus . . .yes . . .suck there, Babe . . .harder . . .harder . . .oh yes. . . oh shit. . ."_

Success! I can understand most of what he's saying. I can feel his penis knocking against my center as if to say "hurry it up!" I raise myself up, slip the condom on, line him up, and wait. The moment Ranger's eyes open, I slam down and immediately begin to ride him hard and fast. I watch as he gasps and groans and the words flow in whispers again.

"_Oh SHIT yes! That's it Babe . . . ride me . . . me poseer. . . yes baby . . . this dick is yours . . . reclamarlo . . . poseerlo. . . oh shit . . .oh yes . . . you sweet little tease . . .you nasty girl . . . oh god yes . . . fuck me. . . usted pagará por ello . . . I swear . . ."_

Hmm . . . I need to look up _te extrañé,_ _reclamarlo_ and _poseerlo_. I don't know those but I get the idea. It's taking everything I have to simply chant his name and not let on that I understand him. I'm not slowing down and only Ranger's hands on my waist keep me from sliding off him. I can feel the orgasm. It's right there. I just need. . . I need . . .

Ranger rolls me over and thrusts.

* * *

"Yo," I whisper. My entire body feels boneless. Sex with Ranger is better than a two hour massage. It's better cardio than anything Sarah can dish out.

Ranger's eyes are still black and shining and I get the 1000W smile. "Yo."

"Any reason I haven't gotten any calls?"

Now he looks amused. "I expected you here this week. You're offline with me."

I blink. As usual, Ranger had a plan I had no idea about, but that still doesn't excuse his lack of contact. He's managed to contact everyone else. What about me?

Besides, I have a partner who will not be pleased if I simply disappear. Experience has taught me this.

"I have to tell Hector."

Ranger rolls off me. "He knows."

Really? Someone has a **lot **of explaining to do. He picks me up and carries me into the bathroom, where he runs a bath instead of taking us to the shower. He uses the Bvlgari in the tub.

"What's your cologne?"

Ranger lifts an eyebrow.

I shrug. "I found Tank's, Bobby's and Lester's, but I couldn't find yours at the Macy's counter."

Ranger chuckles and settles me into the tub. He slides in behind me and I lean back against him. Perfect temp.

"I don't wear scent."

"Why?"

"It's a marker, an identifier. A man can be identified by his scent, just as you identified Tank, Lester, and Bobby through theirs. In the field, I can't afford anything that leaves a trace."

Damn. There goes a potential birthday/Christmas gift.

"What about the Bvlgari?"

"It started as a one-off from Ella, but she continued to purchase it because you associate it with me. I like the scent so I allow it. But for ops, everything has to be unscented and I bathe with Dove unscented. Everything neutral."

The rumble of Ranger's voice in his chest is soothing. Combined with the warm bath and the great sex, I'm sleepy again.

"And when you aren't on ops? Do you splash on anything?"

"I have a 10 year old bottle of Hermes D'Orange Verte. It's what I wear for client dinners and it doesn't clash with the Bvlgari."

I make a note to write that down.

"Why haven't you called?"

The bathroom is silent. "Running a domestic op like this one is new for me. I don't want to do anything that puts you in jeopardy. Contacting RangeMan individuals is one thing. Contacting my woman is another."

I smile. His woman. Wait, I'm RangeMan too!

"Yes, you are RangeMan, but you're special. You . . ." Ranger trails off, thinking. He's running the sponge over my breasts absentmindedly. "I don't want to put you in any kind of danger. It's enough that your name is associated with mine in the streets, and I recognize that on this op, it's a double-edged sword."

Ranger is running the bath sponge over my limbs. I raise my legs for him and he chuckles.

"I've only called Hector and Tank so far. Lester once about a company situation. My main contact in this op is really Hector. He's the one passing info over to Tank this time."

"I thought Tank was always your backup."

"Normally, yes. But Tank thought I should allow Hector point on this one. Between Hector's ability to get intel and Tank's current location and inability to answer as quickly as normal, it makes sense."

"Hector's been getting intel?"

I feel Ranger smile. "When he isn't tracking you, yes. Hector only sleeps about four hours a night. He finally has something to do with those extra hours besides hack."

Hector and I are going to have a **very** long talk.

Ranger has washed all exposed skin, so I slide behind him and do the same.

"How's it going so far?"

"Not bad." Silence, then, "Not going to ask me about Joe?"

Is that jealousy I hear? This is Ranger. That can't be right. "I wasn't, since I didn't know how much you would tell me, but since you brought him up, how is he doing?"

Silence.

"He's making a name for himself. He should be able to write his own ticket when this is over."

"I'm glad."

I can sense Ranger tense minutely, so I kiss the back of his neck. He relaxes.

"You said I'm offline with you?"

"Yes."

"What are we going to do?"

Silence, then, "You remember what I said about homes no one would know about?"

"Yes?" Is that where's he taking me?

"Perhaps you'd like to see the main one?"

I'm stunned. "How? I can't imagine how many trackers Hector has on me."

"He told me so I could remove them. Looked mighty pissed too. I've been ordered to reattach them the moment you set foot back here."

I laugh. Hector is definitely protective and I'm still having problems accepting it. The idea that I can get away from my personal bodyguard is a nice thought. I love my partner. I have problems with the bodyguard bit.

Ranger pulls the plug to the tub and climbs out. He returns with a fluffy towel and pats my skin dry. I grab the lotion on the way back to the bedroom. Ranger gives the best, most relaxing massages.

I hear Ranger whisper to me as I drift off.

"_¿Estás listo Babe? ¿Usted finalmente me aceptan? ¿Estás listo para dejar de lado su pasado, del policía, de todo lo que te detiene? Te voy a dar todo lo que pueda. Necesito saber que no estaré aquí parado, sosteniendo mi polla, cuando todo esto termine. Te amo. Quiero Algún dia."_

Damn. Ranger talks a lot faster than Hector. I understood parts of that sentence. I know I recognized _Te amo_ and _Algún dia_.

Back to the dictionary.

* * *

_Ranger's sentence: Are you ready Babe? Do you finally accept me? Are you ready to let go of your past, of The Cop, of everything holding you back? I'm giving you everything I can. I need to know I won't be standing here, holding my dick, when this is over. I love you. I want Someday._

_usted pagará por ello_: you'll pay for this

_te extrañé_: I missed you

_reclamarlo_: claim it

_poseerlo_: own it

_me poseer_: own me

_te vas a_: you will

* * *

**A/N:** Some of you may wonder/think I've written Ranger a little out of character, but consider this. One, I've never had sex with someone who never said a word the entire time. If you have, please PM me because that's odd. Two, I would think that Ranger would/could be a lot more open with Steph if he spoke in Spanish, knowing that she doesn't know the language. Problem is, he doesn't know she's learning!

Also, I think the word for next week is **gorge!** Two chapters and two side stories! Remember that poor **brownc0at** needs some love too! My beta is fantastic!


	39. Offline, Part I

**A/N: Conversation in **_**Italics**_** in Spanish.**

**Also, Piman was mentioned in Chapter 25: Intel. Rey was mentioned in Chapter 27: Past and Present Collide. A link to the Flickr! set I'm using for Ranger's House is available from my profile, if you're interested.**

* * *

**Chapter 39: Offline**

**Steph's POV**

After three long months, I finally get some time with Ranger. I wake to the smell of pancakes and . . . citrus?

I open my eyes and find Ranger sitting on the side of the bed, holding a plate of pancakes. His hand is in front of my face.

"Hermes D'Orange Verte."

I sniff. I don't remember ever smelling this on Ranger but if I did, it was subtle. Just like Ranger. It doesn't clash with the Bvlgari; it just floats on top of it.

Curiosity appeased, I eye the pancakes. Ranger grins and starts moving backwards. I follow. It's been a while since I've seen carbs, and he better put the plate down.

"Lookin' a little scary, Babe." Ranger places the plate on the table, where I see bacon, eggs, and orange juice. The perfect breakfast. I enjoy every moment of it and at the end, I sit back and pat my tummy. Ranger is smiling.

"Done?" I nod. "OK, shower and let's get out of here. Where's your phone?"

"Charger."

I head back to the bathroom and take a shower. This shower is even better than the one in Trenton. More showerheads! An hour later, I'm ready to go. Ranger has packed bags for both of us and found all my trackers.

"No one knows where this house is?"

Ranger shakes his head. "RangeMan does the monitoring, but the house is owned by a shell company to hide my ownership. We'll need to grab groceries on the way there, and we may need to do a little cleaning. Otherwise, it should be in perfect shape."

We head for the door and I see Ranger scramble the cameras. We hit the elevator and he hits another button.

"Override. No one knows I'm here except Hector and Armando, and I want to keep it that way."

I nod. We hit the garage and walk over to the Lamborghini. Ranger opens the door for me.

"You sure you want to take this car? How about the Mercedes?"

Ranger looks at me. "Babe."

I wonder if I can work on my blank face without him catching me. "Car karma."

"I'm driving. Nothing's ever blown up when I was driving."

I settle in the passenger seat and wait. Ranger slides in and looks at me.

"Babe?"

"Hmm?" I turn to look at him and he smiles and kisses me passionately.

"Glad you're here, Babe," he whispers. "I was hoping you'd come."

Ranger kisses. My brain is foggy.

Ranger starts the car and we leave RangeMan behind. I'm staring out the window at the Miami skyline. This is much better than TV and the clothes are much tighter, shorter, and skimpier. I look at my outfit: shorts and tank top. Maybe I should have chosen something else to fit in? I look at Ranger's outfit and realize I didn't pay attention earlier. Ranger's wearing khaki shorts and a white t-shirt.

"Nice outfit, Batman."

Ranger looks over at me and does a slow head to toe inspection of my outfit. My nipples immediately take notice and he smiles. "I left Batman in the building. Carlos and Stephanie are offline."

I grin. Nothing to say to that. "Are we going to the Bat Cave?"

He laughs and I love the way it sounds. "Nope. Just my secret home. Known to only one person, two with you."

I lean back in the seat and resume people watching. "So, Carlos, what are we going to do today? Hey! How are you able to take time off from your op?" I turn back to Ranger, who looks as if he's thinking of smiling.

"The plan for today is to get groceries, let you snoop around the house, swim, make love," Ranger shrugs, "open ended. We'll figure it out as we go. I'm at a quiet moment in the op. The agents are out collecting intel, so although you're offline, technically I'm not. I'll spend the evenings checking in with them and sifting through what they tell me. Two to three hours at most a night." He picks my hand up and kisses my wrist. "The rest of the time belongs to you."

I grin. I get Ranger to myself (minus three hours a night) with no set agenda. No training. No range time. I might even be able to talk him into an unhealthy meal.

We're headed south from RangeMan and Ranger tells me to get comfortable. It takes about 40 minutes to get to his house from RangeMan. I decide to take a nap.

"Where is it located?"

"Coral Gables."

I try to take a nap but I'm too excited. Miami is beautiful and the weather is wonderful. We pull up to a grocery store and grab the necessary items. I manage to grab ice cream and cookie dough and Ranger looks like he's thinking of smiling.

"That stuff will kill you, Babe."

"I'll die happy."

"I'd rather you not die anytime soon," he says. The checkout girl is staring at him. He flashes a smile and she drools. I hide my face in Ranger's shoulder and try not to laugh.

"Is that what I look like?" I whisper.

I can feel Ranger chuckle. "No. You look distracted too."

10 minutes later, we're back in the Lamborghini and headed to Ranger's home. We aren't in any hurry, and I get to examine the streets and neighborhoods. Eventually, we enter an area that is clearly home to expensive houses and, as we go farther and farther, the houses and lots get bigger and bigger. Finally, we pull up to a gate and, after Ranger keys in a code and undergoes an eye scan, we stop in front of Ranger's home.

This is stunning. I look at Ranger. "Stats."

"Five bedrooms, five baths. Almost 6,000 square feet." Ranger shrugs. "I'm rarely here."

My mouth is hanging open. My apartment is 800 square feet max. 6,000? I leave the groceries for Ranger and immediately set off to explore.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

I rarely think about this house, but looking at it through Steph's eyes, I have to appreciate it. This is a quiet neighborhood, where everyone keeps to themselves. I bought this house two years ago, when Babe and The Cop announced their engagement. I was ready to walk away then and this house seemed perfect. Quiet neighborhood, private boat slip, 10 minutes to open water, and a location no one would expect me to live in. I was here when I got the news she'd called it off.

I went to the airport straight from the house.

I grab the groceries and stash them in the kitchen. I've started on lunch, marinating some chicken and skewering vegetables, when I hear a shout. "**Holy—**"

I guess she found the pool. Or the boat. Or the master bathroom shower. Or the game room. You know, I think I better go find her.

I wash my hands and set off. I find her moments later in the master bedroom.

She found the closets and she found _her_ closet.

She whirls around to look at me. "Whose clothes are these?"

I smile mentally. "Yours." I watch as she examines the closet. Multiple pairs of FMPs, outfits, purses, even three bottles of Dolce Vita live here. I've been bringing things here for the past two years, ever since Scrog, when I knew that I'd make a move after her someday. Hopefully before she and The Cop ever got serious. Ella's had a field day shopping for this closet.

She picks up a pair of leather peep-toes. "These are Cole Haan, fall two years ago," she says quietly. "I couldn't find these anywhere." She looks at me, tears shining in her eyes.

I smile and take the shoes from her. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her softly, lovingly and taste the tears on her cheeks. "Need more time to look around?" She nods. "I'll be in the kitchen prepping for lunch. I don't have any set plans. This is all about what you want to do." She gives me a shaky smile and, after wiping away the tears, I leave for the kitchen.

30 minutes later Steph joins me in the kitchen. "Need help?" She's smiling.

"Nope. I was about to hit the pool. Join me?"

I take her hand and walk outside to the pool. I grin at the look on her face and strip. The last thing I see before I hit the water is Steph's astonished face. I guess she didn't expect me to hit the water nude.

I surface and laugh. "Come on, Babe! It's only me and you." Her face is funny. She looks torn between joining me now and running back to the bedroom to find her swimsuit.

"Are you sure no one can see us?" Her eyes are darting around, but I've checked. No one can see without a telescope or long distance camera lens.

"Positive, Babe. No cameras, no monitoring here. Jump in." I swim a lap and wait for her to make a decision. I grin when she jumps in, nude.

We spend a leisurely day in the pool. I rub sun block on her body and grill the chicken and skewers. Babe stuns me by pushing me on my back next to the pool and making love to me in the open air. I'm grinning at her openness and wincing at the rash from the concrete. I grab cover-ups and the ice cream and allow her to convince me to eat two bites while we watch the sunset. We spend the evening watching a movie, and I tuck Babe in the bed before I review the intel collected today.

Hector's enjoying this assignment. He's brilliant at working the streets and his contacts for info. I review the info from him and Manny, grateful they're working flawlessly as a team. Their info suggests that this sting is meant to capture me too. I'd heard chatter about an ICE agent in Tampa who was pissed that I kept refusing contracts to bring in Piman. Hector and Manny have been able to confirm that it's true and Hector's still working his contacts. He's 'interviewing' the men he captured yesterday and he'll send an update later.

The other agents are quietly working their contacts, but Morelli is close to pulling his man in. This will be numbers three and four for him. He's a bastard, but he works fast. Solid work on everything he's done so far. I was right not to bounce him. He advises me to listen to the information from his wire. Two of the three agents Manny thought were dirty talked to him, and he's thinking he knows how he wants to follow up but he needs some info. I listen to the tapes.

"Jordan?"

"Reyes?"

"Good job. You're right, Reyes and Garcia are gay and lovers. Threaten to tell their wives. Use the pictures I'll email you to get everything you can out of them."

Silence. "Jesus, Reyes! You'd use a man's sexuality against him?"

"Nope. I'd use a man's lies against him. This wouldn't be good blackmail if they were out and honest about it. Instead, they're lying about it to the world. Fair game." I hate explaining anything to him, but he's my best. I need us working without hostility because I get the feeling I'm going to need him on the last phase of the op.

Silence. "Understood." There's grudging respect in his tone.

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

_Click_.

At 0600 I pull the sheets off Babe and tickle her.

"Stop! Stop stop stop Ranger!" She's laughing and so am I.

"You were awake. Quit faking," I growl playfully.

"I hate Sarah. I can't sleep past 5:30 anymore," she whines. I'm amused. Intel to the enemy, Babe.

"Come on Babe. Workout."

"We're offline," she mutters, pulling the sheet back over her head.

"Come on Babe. Workouts are every day except Sunday." I'm reaching for my sweatpants when I get an irresistible offer.

"I'll work out only if you wear a pair of boxers and I get sex after."

She would've gotten the sex anyway, but I'm game. "Done." I drop the sweatpants and watch the hungry look on her face as I pretend to search for my boxers. I finally 'find' them and slip them on. "Come on Babe. You can swim for cardio. That'll be better on your leg anyway." I look out the window. The sun is just coming up. "Sun's coming up. Let's watch the sunrise."

Steph slips into her bikini and I make a mental note to take it off with my teeth. We step outside and I hold her as we watch the sun rise. She snuggles in my arms and sighs. "It's so beautiful here."

I kiss her temple and smile. "Wait until summer truly hits. You'll beg me to visit the Maine safe house."

I watch as she attempts to raise an eyebrow and I remind myself not to smile. "That hot?"

"You could fry an egg on the concrete."

She winces. We slip into the pool and I'm surprised to find that Babe is a good swimmer. I make a note to tell Hector to add swimming to her workout plan. We finish the workout with stretches and yoga. After breakfast smoothies and sex in the shower, I'm waiting on the plan for the day.

I'm surprised to find Steph checking email. "Babe?"

She looks around, sheepish. "Sorry. Wanted to see if Manny had sent me anything about what's going on in NYC yet."

I nod. NYC? I want to know what's going on, but this is supposed to be a work-free time for us. "Well, what do you want to do? We can stay here, we can take the boat out, the only thing we can't do is shop, Babe. It would blow my cover."

She pouts, then perks up. "Boat?"

I nod and tell her to pack towels, sun block, and music. I throw together a picnic lunch and meet her back downstairs and lead her to the boat slip. 15 minutes later, we're in open water and relaxing on the deck. It's a repeat of the previous day. We swim in the ocean, have sex on the deck (we have to stop that. My ass is developing bruises), and feed each other from the lunch basket. Steph slathers on sun block and settles in for some sunbathing while I pull out the fishing poles and see if I can catch some fish. I manage two decent size grouper as the sun goes down.

We pull back into the slip and I gut and clean the fish while Steph showers. I prep dinner, take a shower, and grill the fish while Steph manages a salad under my direction. We spend the night debating our favorite music and Steph finds the DVD copy of Ghostbusters in my collection. I pretend I have no knowledge of its existence and I'm rewarded with a blowjob. I immediately cop to the Blu-Ray copy in the bedroom.

At 2000, I slip into my office and call Julie.

"_Dulce_?"

"Hi, Papa! Are you coming tomorrow?"

"Yes, I am. Stephanie will be with me. What time do we need to be there?"

"11AM. The ceremony starts at noon. Daddy, I got my iPhone! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Julie is thrilled with the phone, but I'm thrilled by the fact she called me Daddy. Plus, with the tracking we put on it, I'll always know where she is. She might ditch trackers, but not a $600 status symbol.

"_Thank your Mama, Dulce. She had to agree to it for you to receive it. Just remember, any apps you buy and games you play come from your iTunes account."_

"_I know, Papa! I'm just glad I finally get a phone. Everyone else at school had one except me."_

Steph enters my office and sits in my lap. "Julie?" she mouths and I nod and pass her the phone.

"Hi Julie!"

"Steph! You have to give me your number. We can Face Talk!"

I listen to my favorite women (women? My daughter is still a child!) talk about their phones, apps and games. Before I know it, 30 minutes have passed and it's time for me to check in. I motion for Steph to leave and she walks toward the bedroom, still talking to Julie.

"_Yo!"_ Hector.

"_Yo!"_

"_You are a definite target. I might become one."_

"_Explain."_

"_They're using Rey to go after Piman. He did Rey dirty in a deal. Other Incas are pissed he has coverage from you and, based on the shit I did in ATL, apparently from me. They want that kinda coverage against the Feds."_

Hmm . . . _"OK. Anything else?"_

"_Armando hired a kid for tech. I think he's a plant. I asked them to get him fingerprinted."_

I shake my head. Armando will never learn. _"Outside SOPs again, huh?"_

"_You know it. Reyes followed Nikki for a few days. She and my son hid at RMAtlanta. Danny set up the tail, trapped them and 'convinced' them not to follow Nikki."_

I chuckle at that. Hector's admiration of Danny, and his arguments against putting a server farm in Hurricane Alley, convinced me to move the servers to Atlanta. _"How?"_

"_Last thing to go on a boxer is his punch."_

At that, I laugh. It's one of Danny's favorite sayings. The phone beeps. Manny.

"_Yo!"_

"_Yo! Took me forever to get away from Javi. What I miss?"_

Hector catches him up. Manny laughs quietly. _"I'm getting the name William Knox. I know he's a Fed, but I can't find the department. Anyway, he's set up a sting in someone's organization. I thought it might be ours, but I don't see any new employees . . . oh no . . ."_

Hector and I crack up. Finally, I answer Manny. _"XO in Miami is known for going outside SOPs on occasion."_

"_Shit,"_ Manny says.

"_They hired him into tech,"_ Hector says.

"_Oh, the poor fuck,"_ Manny mutters. Again, Hector and I crack up. _"Look, he's still a fed. Make sure he can walk out under his own power."_

"_Ruining my fun and my reputation, Manny,"_ Hector says.

"_Please. You don't kill. Maim, break, scare pissless, yes. Kill, no."_

That's true. Hector's conscience is burdened by the lives he's taken to get out. He won't kill if he can help it.

"_One last thing,"_ Hector says.

"_Yeah?"_

"_My son can read! He read me a book tonight."_

I can feel Hector's pride through the phone. Hector Manuel is a smart little boy who loves his uncle, and his uncle is devoted to him. Manny and I congratulate him and listen to him talk about the massive order he made for new books for Hector Manuel. We disconnect and I check in with the other agents. No new news. Great.

Steph's standing in the doorway looking at me. I check the time. 2200. Time to make love to my woman.


	40. Offline, Part II

**A/N: FYI I'm officially in hiding. You'll find out why soon enough.**

**Conversations in _I_**_**talics**_** in Spanish**

* * *

**Chapter 40: Offline, Part II**

**Ranger's POV**

Julie's middle school graduation was cute. I watched, proud, as my baby went across the stage, collected her 'diploma' and waved to the crowd. I took multiple pictures while Steph cheered. I could see Rachel and Ron across the auditorium. I told Rachel in advance that I wouldn't sit with them, nor would I hug Julie in public, because of the op. Good thing I warned them. I noticed a few fed-types scanning the crowd, but I'd made myself up to look more like Lester, including green contacts. Unless you got right up on me, you'd think Lester had bulked up a bit and gotten a tan, completely believable since he was supposed to be in Texas. Lester and Steph in the crowd at this event wouldn't set off alarm bells.

I wait 20 minutes, until the majority of the crowd leaves, before I begin moving Steph toward the exits. The fed types don't move. Either I was successful or they're here after someone else. I do some evasion maneuvers then head to the Martine house. We pull in and Julie runs to greet us. We follow her around to the back of the house and I meet my chief annoyances.

Rachel's family.

They hate me. They hate me for not giving up my Army career, not sticking around past Julie's first birthday, and for the fact that my lifestyle led to Julie's kidnapping. I had to put my Glock on the table after Julie's kidnapping to make everyone in the room shut up. They've chosen to ignore the fact that my lifestyle has paid for this home (which is owned by the same shell company that owns my home), Julie's private school education, and all the little luxuries that the Martines enjoy.

I may not have been able to be 'Daddy', but I've been a damn good 'Papa'. My child support is never late and I keep in touch as much as possible, more since Scrog. My daughter didn't hesitate to kill a man to save my life. She deserves much more contact from me and I've made sure she's gotten it. Our relationship is entirely different now. I'm starting to feel like 'Daddy' again.

Time has not dissipated their feelings about me. The party immediately turns cold. Steph looks at me in confusion.

"Rachel's family. They hate me for a lot of reasons." Steph nods and I head toward Ron.

"Ranger, good to see you." Ron and I shake and he gives Steph a quick hug. "Good to see you too, Steph. Let me introduce you to everyone." He leans in and whispers, "Pretend they aren't all staring daggers at Ranger. We told them they had to be on their best behavior. This party is for Julie, not to start another argument over Ranger and Rachel's marriage." He shakes his head and smiles at Steph. "That marriage has been over for more than a decade and they still act as if it was just yesterday. Pathetic."

I smile mentally. This is why Ron and I will always get along.

He introduces Babe to everyone in the backyard, all of whom refuse to give me more than the slightest bit of acknowledgement, and they stare at Steph in pity. Thankfully, Julie returns and hugs me, and she and Steph immediately begin talking about their phones and band camp, which starts in two weeks.

"Is that the woman who helped rescue Julie?" Mrs. Molina, Rachel's mother, asks.

I nod. "Stephanie Plum."

"You plan to knock her up and leave her too?" she asks with a bitter smile on her face.

I smile. "She and I agree on birth control. Two forms at all times." This reminds me, I need to pick up some more condoms.

Mrs. Molina stares at me and walks off. I hear Ron laugh quietly behind me. "You're mean. You're taking away their favorite whipping boy." He walks off and returns with more hors d'oeuvres.

The party livens up again and everyone leaves me alone. Steph travels from person to person while Julie introduces her all over again, this time as "Papa's girlfriend. I mean, she's a friend who's a girl, not a girlfriend." Steph's red and I'm laughing mentally.

"You find that hilarious, don't you?" Rachel asks, walking up behind me.

"Only Julie." I smile at her and I see that I still affect her. Fifteen years and another husband and I can still make Rachel hot.

"When are you going to make an honest woman out of her? Julie's just waiting for the announcement. That's her way of pushing you two along."

I watch my daughter's plotting. Steph's smiling but embarrassed and every so often she shoots me a 'rescue me' look. I wave back. I smile and hug my ex-wife. "Not really looking to get married, Rachel."

"Liar," Rachel says softly. "Your eyes say differently. You might be looking at me right now, but I'll bet that without turning around you can pinpoint her location in this backyard."

I smile mentally. She's right. Steph is by the double doors leading to the house. "Should I go rescue her before your family starts giving her advice?"

"Nope. Julie's a big girl now. She sees the looks on everyone's faces. She's protecting Steph. She won't move away from her unless Steph's with you or Ron." Rachel laughs quietly. "She's _**so**_ your child. The 'Survivors of Scrog' network looks out for each other."

Is that what they call themselves? Cute. Wish it was unnecessary.

We stay for two hours. I eat a small bite of Steph's cake and smile at her enthusiasm. Julie gave her a piece with a rose on it. Finally, the party breaks up and we head back to the house. Steph immediately goes to soak in the Jacuzzi while I review the intel for the past week. I knew I smelled a rat when I started this op. An ICE agent in Tampa is gunning for me. I call Madame Secretary and discuss the situation with her, telling her I don't have all the info on the situation, but I will by the end of the week. She asks me to call her Friday and she'll make a decision on what to do.

At 1600 I get a call. Hector.

"_Yo_!"

"_Yo! Kid's a plant. Joint task force with DEA and ATF. Two commendations for bringing down drug lords. How do you want me to handle it?"_

Really? _"He's yours. They hired him for your area."_ Once Hector's done, the kid will wish he'd never heard of RangeMan.

"_Done_." _Click_.

My brother is nothing if not efficient.

I go looking for Steph. I need a break from processing info, and I find her in the other study, on the phone.

"Well, if your estimates look good, Danny, I say go for it. I'll trust you since I don't have my computer in front of me. Now, I need your opinion on something." She looks up and sees me in the doorway. I raise an eyebrow and she blushes. "One moment, Danny." She places him on mute.

"What happened to offline?"

"I was curious about the numbers coming back in from Hospitality. Chase wants to talk to me about adding more venues. RangeMan's reputation in Atlanta is growing and people are coming to them instead of them having to chase contracts."

I grin. That's my Babe! "Proud of you, Babe." I walk in and kiss her. "I was thinking about dinner. Any ideas?"

Steph grins. "Might as well call it a cheat day. I've had cake. No going back after that."

I laugh mentally and walk out. I scout the kitchen and decide to grill some chicken. Babe seems to like simple things if they're grilled. I pull out the potatoes and vegetables and scrub them. Everything will go on the grill tonight.

We spend another quiet evening at home. This is what I've wanted to experience with Steph. I pull up the last hockey game of the season, from a month ago, and Steph and I watch in the den, Steph yelling at the stupid calls and cheering the Rangers on. I don't care for hockey but I've learned to root for the Rangers. I appreciate that the team has my nickname, and they're Steph's favorite so that makes it easy. Steph finishes the carton of ice cream and takes a nap with her head in my lap. I'm contemplating moving her when the phone rings. 2200.

"_Yo!"_

"_Yo." _Hector_. "Lemme call Manny. You both need to hear this."_ A moment later, Manny is on the line._ "OK, I went to Tampa tonight. Something I found in my digging last night intrigued me. The ICE agent in Tampa is William Knox."_

"_Shit!" _Manny and I both curse. That was so obvious we should have put it together_._

"_It gets better. I had my session with Matt, real name Matt Wallace, this evening. Told him to tell his superiors that you would deliver a message when you were stateside again, Ranger. Kid told me to tell you that you are under investigation. Anyway, credit card charges suggested he, Knox, would be at Havana in Tampa tonight, so I went. Little time on the dance floor allowed me to eavesdrop his conversation." _

"_Dancing?"_ Manny asks. I can hear the laughter in his voice._ "Who was the lucky lady?_

"_Not important right now," _Hector replies_. "The important stuff is this: your counterintel op is working. It's widely believed you're in Pakistan right now. They don't have a clue what's going on, just that six agents have disappeared. Everyone in ICE is nervous, and in the middle of the dinner they found out that Matt was uncovered, so they know they lost their spy. Matt passed on my message so they're feeling certain you're overseas. Since they don't have a clue, they started looking at competitors. Maguiles and Sidwell were the names I picked up."_

I know them. Yeah, if I had turned this contract down, they would be the only options and it would take three times as long to catch the culprits.

"_They considered moving against the company, but since it's privately held, with Steph in charge and the guys in Texas, they don't have anything to move against you with. They're truly stuck, bro."_

I smile. Wonderful. I now have everything I need. William Knox is about to be placed on electronic surveillance. Time to tease Hector.

"_So, this lucky lady on the dance floor, what was her name?"_ I can hear Manny laugh.

"_Really? Is that all you fuckers got out this call? The fact that I danced with a woman?"_

"_No_," Manny replies. _"It's the most interesting part of this call. Everything else was great detective work that confirmed outstanding suspicions. Now, about this woman. Quit stalling and describe her."_

I've put the phone on mute to laugh. My shaking wakes Steph, who glares at me with one bleary eye. I kiss her softly and move her off my lap.

I hear Hector sigh. "_Tallis._ _Tall, willowy, great tan, great smile, great ass. College girl, art major. We had dinner, we flirted, I took her home. I turned down the nightcap, the offer of more pussy than I could handle and a session of naughty pictures. OK?"_

If Hector said anything after that I didn't hear it. Manny and I roared with laughter. Hector described this chick in the same bored tone you'd use to describe paint drying. Steph woke with a start and I waved her off. She looked at me, perplexed, then pointed up toward the bedroom. I nodded and she left the room.

"_Congratulations, Hector. You get a gorgeous woman all hot and bothered, ready and willing to give you the ride of your life, and you turn her down cold. Where's a straight man to pick up the pieces when you need him?"_ I chuckle. _"I salute you_._"_

"_Fuckers,_" Hector growls.

"_I agree, bro," _Manny says. "_You must've been clean and charming as hell to get this chick offering to drop panties in two hours. It did take two hours, right? 'Cuz if it took less I'm going to hate you. I'm also going to need you to tell me how you did it, step by step." _

Hector hangs up. Manny and I also disconnect, still laughing.

I go upstairs and join Steph in the shower.

"What's so funny?"

I smile. "Op related."

"Oh." She pours shampoo in her hands and lathers my hair. I lean into it. I love feeling her pamper me. Once she finishes, she takes the sponge and washes my entire body, except the obvious part. I smile and handle that while she dries off. I grab the lotion and follow her back into the bedroom.

"You know, I really don't wear lotion unless you massage it in."

"Really?" I'm starting with her legs. I'm an ass man and Babe has spectacular legs and a fantastic ass. I smile as I listen to her moan at my handiwork. She rolls over and I work my way up to her tummy and place soft kisses there. I'm thrilled nothing developed, but slightly disappointed. Some part of me wants a permanent marker of my ownership, and pregnancy would have been perfect. On second thought, I want to be there this time. No, I'll trust in Babe, that's she's waiting for the end of this op to discuss our possible life together. I need her to make the changes. I need to see that she takes herself more seriously now.

I wonder if I can talk her into a tattoo in the meantime.

She has my heart. She's running my company. She's seen my real home, the only place no one else knew about. I've taken her with me to spend time with my daughter. She has everything I can give her.

I'm just waiting on her to make it official.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

The next morning, I demanded we leave the house, so Ranger took me to the local botanical gardens. The place was massive, so we caught the tram tour. I nearly fell out of the tram staring at all the beautiful flowers. Hector had spoiled me with the different bouquets every Wednesday, and I now have a new appreciation for flowers. We stayed until around noon, when the Beast growled.

"Time to leave?"

"Probably safer that way."

Ranger's lips twitched. "Good looking out for the public, Babe."

I glared at him. "Forget the public. Feed me."

Ranger chuckled. We went to a steakhouse for lunch. I didn't see how that was healthy, but I was with Ranger. His salad appeared: Grilled chicken breast on a salad, hold the dressing, no croutons and no cheese.

"That salad is missing all the good stuff."

Ranger looked at his salad. "You're right." He signaled the waiter. "I'd like some vinegar, please."

"Kind, sir?"

"Red wine." Ranger sat back and grinned at me. "Good for catching that Babe."

I glared at him. "That wasn't what I meant." My salad appeared. Same, but some differences. Different lettuce and I had pears, gorgonzola, and pecans. I smiled and took a bite. No dressing. The waiter appeared.

"Would madam like red wine vinegar also?"

I scowled. "What dressing is supposed to come with this?"

"Balsamic."

I smiled. Balsamic dressing is sweet. Thank goodness. "I'll have that, thank you."

Ranger's lips were twitching and I frowned at him. "I'm having a salad for lunch instead of a steak with creamed spinach and macaroni and cheese. Don't push it."

He nodded and we ate lunch in silence. Well, near silence. I could see men at nearby tables twitching. Oh well. I was full and Ranger was smiling.

We went to the movies after lunch. We couldn't agree on what to see, so I sat through a horror movie designed to make me look over my shoulder. In return, Ranger sat through a romantic comedy that I cried through. He looked as if he was thinking of smiling, so I didn't feel bad.

"Where to next, Babe?"

I sighed. It was getting late. I needed to pack, explore the house one more time, maybe get another swim in, and get ready to return to RangeMan. "Home. I need to pack. Flight leaves in the morning."

Ranger nodded, the smile disappearing off his face. I reached for his hand and we held hands all the way home.

Home?

Am I considering this house home? Maybe. It's beautiful, in a great location, and it's private. I turn to Ranger.

"I see now what you mean about isolation." He turns to me, a question in his eyes. "I've loved being here this weekend, where no one except you knows where I am. This was perfect." Ranger immediately turns our hands over and kisses mine.

"I love having 7 all to myself, too. I think of it as my sanctuary against everything. When I go up to 7, I refuse to think about work or calls, or the company. I stretch out on the bed and take a nap. I take a shower. I eat 'Ella food'," Ranger grins at that, "and I appreciate that it's not available to everyone. Hal's done a good job ensuring everyone understands that once I head up to 7, I'm not to be contacted. The only person I have to worry about popping in on me once I'm up there is Hector, and he's only done that once, to return my purse."

Ranger nods. "So, it's not as bad as you thought it might be?"

"Not at all."

"Good. I knew that might be a hard transition for you." Ranger pulls into the garage and we walk in the house. I pack and decide to skinny dip in the pool one last time. I find Ranger in his office, going through his info.

"Want me to grill tonight?"

Ranger turns around and stares hungrily at my naked body. I smile, walk in, and pull the phone from his hand. I listen, dial tone, and hang it up. Ranger has already unzipped his pants, so I work them down to his ankles while he dresses himself. He sits back in the chair, so I place my feet on either side of his legs and lower myself slowly onto his cock. I've never had sex in a chair before, so I'm setting the pace slowly. Ranger reaches up to grab my waist with one hand and my nipple with another.

I smile and remember to thank Sarah for making me do all those squats.

This is slow, sweet sex in his office. Eventually Ranger starts tweaking my nipples and I grind harder against him, enjoying his growls. I listen to Ranger murmur "_Dulce_" and _"Te amo"_ repeatedly. I smile, grateful I'm facing away from him. _Sweet_ and _I love you_. Learning Spanish is wonderful. I start bouncing up and down a little faster and squeezing my muscles to hurry him along. Ranger immediately starts rubbing my clit. I'm grinding against him, frantic, when his arm clamps around my waist.

"Stop," he growls. I can't, so Ranger picks me up, slipping from inside me, and places me on the desk. He rips off his t-shirt, opens my legs wide, and thrusts inside. This is like our bout of sex on top of his table and I immediately lie back and grasp both sides of the desk. Ranger is pounding away and I feel us both come at the same time. Ranger collapses on top of me and kisses me.

"Are we out of condoms?" I whisper. I'm still trying to catch my breath.

"Three left," Ranger pants. "Got plans?"

I smile. "They require you."

I get the wolf grin. Ranger starts sliding his fingers down my body when it happens.

_**GRRROOOWWWLLLLL.**_

Ranger looks at my stomach, looks at me, and smiles.

"OK, maybe later. Grill?" I ask.

"Don't do it naked. I don't want to treat your skin for burns." He kisses my tummy and helps me up. I stand to walk away and feel something peel from my behind. I turn around. Ranger is staring at a page from his legal pad in bemusement. I want to tell him to lift his pants but I'm enjoying the view. He notices me looking and shoots me his wolf grin.

I stick my tongue out at him and leave, a little shaky on my feet. I find my coverall and walk into the kitchen. I find all the stuff Ranger had prepped for dinner tonight. More grouper! Great. I like that fish. I get the grill started (propane. Just press a button! No charcoal to make a mess) and stick everything on the grill, the fish in the grill pan I saw Ranger use. 15 minutes later, dinner is complete and I didn't burn anything. Ranger and I eat outside and watch the sun set. He leaves to catch up on work and I stack the dishwasher and take one last swim in the pool.

I pop in a movie from Ranger's collection and watch it all the way through. Still no Ranger. I pop in another movie and, halfway through, I go looking for Ranger. He's frowning at his phone.

"Everything OK?"

He looks thoughtfully at his phone. "Hopefully."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Not quite Babe." Ranger smiles. He raises the phone. "Hector. Headed to the club tonight."

I nod. My partner loves to dance so that's no surprise. "I have another movie in. Join me?" Ranger nods and we settle on the couch to watch the movie. When it ends, Ranger places my suitcase next to the garage door while I take a shower and get ready for bed.

At 2:15 AM, I'm woken by the sound of the phone ringing. Ranger answers.

"Yo!" His voice is quiet. "When?" He gets out of the bed and walks from the bedroom. "How many?" I pull the sheet back over my head and try to go back to sleep.

Ranger returns moments later and sits on the edge of the bed on my side. He turns on the bedside light.

"Babe?"

"Yeah?" I'm still under the sheets.

"Babe, Hector's been shot."

* * *

**A/N**: Soo…..now that you want to kill me, is it a good time to mention that there's a side story going out tomorrow? It's called 'Five Nights in the Life of a Gangland Legend."


	41. Unbelievable

**Chapter 41: Unbelievable**

**Steph's POV**

I'm furious and frantic to get back to Miami and find Hector. Ranger is looking at me, concerned, and he keeps stroking my hands, but I won't be OK until I see Hector.

He cannot die. Hector is a legend. He **will not **die on me. I can't call Nikki and tell her this. I can't tell Hector Manuel that his _Tío_ is dead.

The drive that seemed so leisurely four days ago is now torture. No one has called us since the first call.

"That's a good thing, Babe," Ranger says.

I stare at him.

"If Hector were critical, I would have gotten multiple updates by now. He's fine."

"What happened? How did Hector get shot?"

I feel Ranger sigh. "Hector's been running intel for me during this trip. He called tonight to say he felt someone was after him, that he might be shot." Ranger kisses my hand, but I'm not comforted. "He expected this, Babe, so he was prepared. He had on his vest. The guys were with him. I expect we'll get back to RangeMan and find him sitting up with a large bruise somewhere on his chest."

"So you **knew** this was going to happen?" Now I'm furious at Ranger. How **dare **he keep this from me?

Ranger sighs. "I knew this was a possibility, but I also knew Hector would take precautions. I didn't see the need to worry you about a possibility."

That's the same thing. You knew! "Why has he been running intel and why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Hector is a legend on the streets. The very threat of him forces people to talk. Between Hector's ability to pull info from the streets and Manny's ability to work the official channels, I can get info three times faster than anyone else."

"So Manny's involved too?" My God, who isn't involved in this? I can't take Manny getting shot again.

"Yes, Manny's tapped back into the feeb network for me. The two of them are working very well together. Hector and Manny were there when I explained the op to everyone. Remember? All the XOs are involved too, Babe, you know that. Their job is to respond to calls from me, Manny, or Hector in regards to this case. Remember one weekend you were down 10 men in Trenton and had a bunch of contract workers in?"

I think back. Yes, that was about two weeks ago. Hal's only comment was that it was "CCO" and I nodded because I knew that must mean Chief Commanding Officer, i.e. Ranger, op-related.

"So why didn't you tell me Hector was involved? Why didn't anyone tell me Hector was involved?"

"Babe, this is related to my op. In this case, the less you know, the better." I'm ready to go rhino on him when he kisses my wrist. "Babe, can you fool a polygraph exam?"

I think about it. "Never had one."

"Could you hold up under intense questioning without a lawyer?"

I slump. Yes, but I'd be pissed. "How many times am I allowed to plead the 5th?"

Ranger chuckles. "Exactly. Hector's dealt with both those situations time and time again. He passes flawlessly. Manny's been trained on interrogation techniques by the FBI. He won't break either. The XOs could probably all pass. Well, Javier and Hal might squeak by if they can avoid coloring."

I snort at that. Hal colors at almost everything unless he's angry. Javier is excitable when upset.

"One thing I've learned this past week is that there are elements in this case who are gunning for me. They were going to try to do it using the company, but with you in charge, it threw them. They know you aren't involved in my ops, Babe, and I want to keep it that way. You're helping my op just by being in charge."

Ranger passes me his handkerchief, but I can't cry. Not yet. My partner cannot die. He **cannot**. Who else will send me flowers every Wednesday? Teach me how to do a blank face? Salsa and tango with me in the clubs? Hector has cooked meals for me and shown me how to make some simple things. He teases me about makeup and holds my hand in public.

I love Hector. I love my partner. He cannot die on me. I didn't have a chance to have his back for him. And I'm furious at Ranger. I don't care that it was merely a possibility. He should have told me. He should've let me know that my partner was expecting to be shot. There's no excuse for this.

This drive is taking forever, so Ranger starts singing low and soft in the car. It's a lullaby, that much I can tell, and it calms me. We need to get back and soon.

* * *

"Babe?"

I sit up, startled. Ranger smiles at me. How long—

"Five minutes, Babe. Max."

I can see RangeMan Miami ahead. We pull into the garage and I'm out of the car before Ranger has even parked. I run through the doors directly to the stairwell, where Armando meets me, smiling. He won't move; I can't get past him.

"He had on his vest, CO. He's fine. Sitting in his apartment, wondering why Ella keeps dabbing cream on him."

I don't care. **MOVE!** I need to see him. Ranger comes up behind me and gently pulls me away from Armando. I was nearly climbing him in an effort to enter the stairwell. Ranger grasps me around the waist and moves me toward the elevator.

"Ella is here?"

"Yes," Ranger replies. "I'll explain later." Armando nods and we move into the elevator. We hit the 7th floor and I head to the room with all the guys trailing in and out.

I freeze in the doorway. Hector is sitting on the couch, frowning, with Ella dabbing a strong cream on him. I can't move. I'm scanning Hector, head to toe, to make sure he's alive. Hector spots me and smiles, but his smile dims as he looks at me. He reaches for a T-Shirt, pulls it on slowly, and walks toward me. His walk is stiff.

* * *

**A/N: Just a guide for understanding. When the conversation is Spanish with an English translation, it means Hector and Steph are keeping up the ruse of Hector only speaking Spanish and Steph not understanding. Conversations in **_**italics**_** are when Hector is with someone who speaks Spanish openly (i.e. not Steph)!**

* * *

"_Estoy vivo, Angelita. ¿Ven?_" (I'm alive, _Angelita_. See?) Ranger translates while Hector runs my hands over his body, including where I saw that huge bruise. I start running my hands all over him and I'm just barely aware of the RangeMen leaving. His eyes are completely bloodshot. Sith Lord Hector. I sob and squeeze my partner in a big hug.

Hector winces and smiles. "_Yo estoy bien, Angelita_," he croons, attempting to calm me. "_Me lo esperaba. Yo estaba preparado. Los hombres se prepararon para cubrirme. Estoy bien. Ven, siéntate conmigo._" (I'm OK, _Angelita_. I expected it. I was prepared. The men were prepared to cover me. I'm fine. Here, sit with me.) He pulls me down on the couch with him and I continue to check him. He has a bit of gravel near his ear, which I brush off. Ranger sits on my other side. The room empties except for me, Ranger, Hector and Ella.

"What happened?" I lean back against Ranger and get comfortable. I'm not leaving until I have all the information.

Hector glances at Ella, who smiles and rolls her eyes. "Make sure he puts this cream on. He's being a man right now, pretending those gunshot bruises don't hurt. Jackson left him something for pain relief already, but I stashed some arnica pills in his medicine cabinet just in case. Homeopathic and he has eye drops for those eyes." She turns and looks at him. _"Pareces un personaje de Star Wars. Use las gotas para que se vea la normalidad cuanto antes."_ (You look like a Star Wars character. Use the eye drops so you look normal again sooner_._)

She leaves and I motion for Hector to lose the shirt. He sighs and pulls off the shirt carefully. Three distinct bruises. All of them are deadly and all to the upper back.

Ram would nod in approval.

I begin dabbing the cream on as Hector explains, in English, that our trip to Amina was calculated to put his name out there. Being the man that he is, it would make someone's name to be known as the guy who took down the _Asesino_, so he used it to get info, but it also opened him up to a hit. He was surprised that they waited until Thursday night to act, but he knew it would happen. He preferred it happen here instead of in New Jersey, where I might have been in the crossfire.

He's not interested in swallowing the pills. "I'm not in pain."

"I don't care. Swallow." He swallows a long white pill (I remember those!) and follows it with water. Gingerly. Even lifting a water bottle is painful, and I'm set to help when Ranger shakes his head once. No. This is ESP I clearly understand. Leave Hector his pride.

I'm furious.

"**How could you!?** How could you put yourself in danger like that? For information? Was there any other way to get this information? It was dangerous, foolish—"

"Calculated and successful, _Angelita_. I got the information I needed. The word will go out that I survived the attack without a single bullet wound and it will strengthen my name, my 'legend'." Hector does the finger quotes, and I'm furious with him. I'm ready to hit him when Ranger grasps me around the waist and pulls me into his lap.

All the frustration and fear of the past hour erupts and I soak Ranger's shirt. I was beyond frightened and both Ranger and Hector murmur soothing words to me as I cry. Finally, I'm done. I have a headache and my eyes are puffy. Hector smiles.

"Looking scary, partner."

I growl at him, which makes him blink then laugh. He disappears to the bathroom and returns with cream. Preparation H. He makes dabbing motions under his eyes and grins at me. How is he still awake? Those pills put me out.

Ranger looks like he's thinking about smiling. "Thanks, Hec. My cover is blown. The men know I'm here."

Hector smiles. "I just survived three to the back. I think the men will keep quiet if they know what's good for them."

I glare at the both of them then sigh. Men. "Have you eaten, Hector? Are you hungry?" I'm keyed up. I need something to do. Hector was just shot and I'm still not over it. I'd like to wring his neck right now.

"I could manage something. Check the fridge."

Ranger looks perplexed by this. I move to the kitchen and find a rotisserie chicken, some salad fixings, and two potatoes. Looks like a dinner. "Ranger, are you hungry?"

Ranger appears in the doorway and raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not cooking. I'm microwaving. I'm good at that."

Ranger looks like he's thinking of smiling then nods. I begin cooking potatoes in the microwave and throw together a quick salad. Once the potatoes are done, Hector and Ranger appear. Ranger dresses their potatoes while I reheat the chicken. Finally, it's done. Meal for three. I've officially become my mother in times of stress; I microwaved. I pour glasses of water while Ranger pulls the silverware and we sit down to enjoy the meal.

"Nice job, Babe," Ranger grins.

I stick my tongue out at him. Hector laughs.

We eat in silence. I'm still eyeing Hector's bruises and Hector's smile is getting bigger and bigger. Finally, he pushes his plate away and begins to laugh. I hear a chuckle on my right, and I'm surprised to see Ranger's face is red and he's shaking his head. He, too, looks like he's about to laugh. Finally, he starts to chuckle.

"Told you," he tells Hector, who nods.

"_Sí_, but I was guessing the other way around."

"Not with you at her back. You were going to get shot first."

Oh. Now I get it. Ha ha.

Hector looks over at me. "No, _Angelita_, we didn't have a bet going. You know I don't allow that. Ranger and I simply wondered which of us would be a target first. I assumed you, he assumed me. He's right, as always."

Ranger nodded. "Hate to say I'm glad I was right."

Hector nods. "So am I."

I can't believe this. Ranger is **glad** Hector got shot? Of all the stupid, insensitive things I've heard tonight, this takes the cake. I'm done with dinner, so I leave the room and head to the apartment. Ranger can sleep with Hector for all I care. I can't believe him. That's my partner. I never want to experience that again.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

I look at Hector and sigh. _"I'm going to pay for that, I know."_

"_Yes, we both will. I'll get the silent treatment for a few days."_

"_Can she stay quiet that long?"_

"_When she really wants to, yes. Why is Ella here?"_

"_Attitude adjustment before Steph arrives. Maria is already in Trenton."_

Hector nods. _"Good idea. I've been popping up randomly, scaring them shitless all week. They aren't ready for her review."_

"_What does she do in these reviews?"_ I ask, curious.

Hector shrugs then winces. Something's wrong with his left shoulder. _"I'm not entirely sure of everything she's looking at, but Atlanta's went really well. They love her and they felt it was a good experience." _He grins evilly._ "The rest of the company is now shaking in their boots over what she'll find and so are your partners. Apparently, NYC was sinking fast."_

I'm shocked. I knew Javier was having trouble, but I didn't realize it was that bad. Hector nods.

"_Yeah, it was really bad. Shocked Lester to the point of tears, says Tank. He blamed himself."_

Now I know it was bad. For Lester to shed a tear over anything it had to be catastrophic. Lester only cries when he blames himself for something. I'm quiet, wondering what else could possibly be happening in the company.

"_But she's got something going in NYC. She sent Manny and Diego there and sent Shane here. Something about a Trojan Horse operation?" _Hector raises an eyebrow and I nod._ "We're headed there in two weeks. Ask Manny for the details."_

Hmm . . . if Babe is doing what I think she's doing, then that is a good plan. I hope it works. I smile. My Babe is shaking things up. Good for her. I know she'll make me proud.

"_So, no one is challenging her authority? She's happy in the job?"_

"_Yeah. Mark straightened up, although Hal's nervous about this about-face. We've refrained from telling him about your 'visit'. You know how he feels about Angelita."_

I nod. Hal adores her, even after she stunned him. He thinks of her as his little sister. Amusing. Steph is three years older than him. He'll never tell her though; he keeps an eye out for her stun gun.

"_She seems to have settled into the job well. Company's grown 3½%._" Outstanding! "_I plan to start getting her out more on weekends, getting her away from the men. She needs that time away."_

I'm smiling. My Babe. I knew she'd do a great job.

I clear the dishes, stacking them in the dishwasher while Hector dresses for bed, although I have to help him with his shirt. The pill finally hit. I take a quick look at the bruises and call ahead to Hal and ask him to tell Zero to get Hector examined the moment he hits Jersey and pay careful attention to his shoulder. I leave, locking Hector in, and head down the stairwell to the 4th floor. I check on Mario, who was bullet-grazed in the incident. He's been bandaged and given pain meds, so I nod at him in approval. He nods back, smiling slightly. Armando is present and I quietly order him to give Mario a few days off to rest and relax. Mando says he's already done that. Good.

I head back up the stairwell. I'm sure I'll have to use my wits to get into the apartment so I'm surprised to find that I have unobstructed entry. Now I'm on my guard; what could Steph be up to?

She's packing. Shit.

Steph is pacing around the apartment throwing her clothes into the suitcases. I'm simply watching her. Nothing I say will calm her right now. She's angry and every so often I get furious glares from her. This is our last night together and I'd planned on amazing, curl-your-toes sex, so I need to cut this off.

Now I bet she understands how I feel when she goes out into the field half-cocked and ends up in trouble. Hurts, doesn't it, Babe? The irony of this is staggering, but I'll bet she misses it entirely.

"Babe."

She whirls around. "Don't you **dare** Babe me! You knew Hector was going to be shot! That's unforgiveable."

"I didn't know Hector was going to be shot. I knew **he** thought he **might** be shot. Operative word, Babe. Might."

"And he was shot! He was! My partner took three to the chest and someone tried to detonate a bomb on him, just in case the gunshots didn't kill him!"

I refrain from pointing out that this happens to her with a terrifying regularity. "And yet I'm calm. Want to know why?"

Steph stares at me, furious, but finally she nods.

"Because I have four years of practice being calm in these kinds of situations. No, actually, I have 14 years of practice at this, but the past four have perfected my response."

I strip and climb into the bed naked. I stretch and fold my arms behind my head. Good, anger temporarily diverted. I pull the sheet up to my waist and smile mentally at the naked lust on Steph's face. She'll never know what she does for my ego. I work to maintain this body just to keep that look on her face.

"For the past four years, I've watched you get into scrapes I couldn't even imagine. Your cars are constantly blown up, so bombs mean very little to me anymore. You've been kidnapped and shot at so many times that every man in Trenton has his response down to an art. We have SOPs for everything that's happened to you so far.

Hector used his instincts. He thought he might be attacked, so he prepped. He wore a vest, one with ceramic plates, just in case. He had two guns and four knives. He didn't let his pride, which is considerable, get in the way of accepting backup and protection. He even texted me in advance! He was better prepared to be shot than you ever are, Babe. So I can remain calm learning Hector was shot because I'm certain Hector will be OK. You get shot, I panic. I'm certain you weren't armed, have no backup, and weren't protected. I know you weren't prepared."

All the fight has gone out of Steph with this cool recitation of facts. She looks angry, thoughtful, and a little ashamed right now. Good. I've wanted to make this point for **years** and it only took Hector getting shot for her to see her actions for what they are: maddening.

"I'm not happy Hector was shot. I'm happy he was prepared **in case** he was shot. Have you ever looked in the 'Bomber' file, Babe?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, if you ever do, what you'll realize is this: Your file of enemies, threats, stalkers, kidnappers, and potential 'unfriendlies' is as large as mine." She looks at me, shocked. "After Con Stiva, we added all family members and associates of known enemies to the list. The guys spend more time in your file than mine because **all** of your threats are domestic. Mine are more dangerous, but they're foreign." I grin. "Together, we are one hell of a dangerous couple."

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that you didn't tell me. You could have warned me."

"So you could do what, Babe? Come back here? Plead with Hector to stay here? He was looking forward to a night in the clubs. He earned it, Babe. I have hours of intel from him to sift through. So, were you going to try to hold his back at the club? He would've been distracted trying to ensure he had your back instead of scanning for a threat." I shrug. "It was better that he went out and had fun with the Miami guys and drew the threat out. Otherwise, it might have followed you two back home to New Jersey."

Steph is finally calm enough to strip down to her panties and climb in with me. I pull her over to me and hug her close.

"Besides, until the call came in, you and I were having a wonderful time at home. What if tonight's call had never come? We would have come back here and you would have paced until Hector arrived all for nothing. Hector has the reputation he has for a reason. It's why the guys placed him as your partner. Tonight will make him even more of a legend than he is already, which means the very threat of Hector is excellent protection for you. This was the best possible outcome, Babe. Trust me."

She finally snuggles in close to me and I can stroke the side of her breast. Ah, anger almost gone. I like angry sex, but I want her to be angry at me, not scared and upset over Hector. I watch her nipple pebble and smile mentally. Come on Babe, ask me about Ella so we can make love before I leave. I glance at the clock. 0420. OK, before you leave.

_Sigh_. "Why is Ella here?"

Yes! Just in time. She's stroking me, and I need my wits for this explanation. "Because the men of Miami need an attitude adjustment. They don't respect Maria and this office has serious gender issues. Armando has attempted to run an attitude adjustment in the past, but it failed. I'm calling in serious ammunition for this."

The stroking stops. Whew! I need my wits with me.

"Is she staying permanently?"

"Nope. Ella will return to Trenton when she feels the Miami men have learned their lesson from her. Ella is the head housekeeper for RangeMan. She has the authority to move the other housekeepers around as she pleases, and she's decided to get all of them involved. She'll start the plan, then move the others in as needed."

Babe looks at me, confused. "I don't get it."

I smile mentally. "The men don't respect or appreciate Maria, but she's part of the problem. I want her to see how the other housekeepers are treated so she knows how she should be treated. The men here will spend their time trying to manipulate you because you're a woman. In their eyes, you should answer to them, not the other way around. Lester did tell you about this office, right?" She nods. "Then you understand that this situation cannot continue. Armando is surrounded by women in his life, so he'll treat you right, but the rest of this office doesn't quite get the idea."

"Attitudes like that start at the top."

Whoa. What the hell does that mean? "Babe? Explain."

Now she won't look me in the eyes, but she's going to explain that sentence. I roll on top of her and brace myself on my arms, locking her into place. It takes a while for her to look at me, but finally she opens her eyes. Her entire face suggests she wishes she'd kept her mouth shut. I raise an eyebrow.

Steph looks at me and I can't quite decipher the look in her eyes. "None of the Leadership is married, in a long term relationship, or even dating anyone. Lester said the men in this office worship you, so the men have taken their cues from you, Tank, Lester, and Bobby. Why should they respect women when none of you are in any kind of relationship? You're all playboys."

No, Lester and Bobby are playboys. Tank and I are in weird-ass relationships with women who won't commit. Don't go there, Babe. We could fight about this all night.

The look in Steph's eyes shift. "I don't want to go there, do I?"

"No." My voice is ice-cold. Steph winces. "You think the men have learned how to treat women from us?"

"Lester's a hound dog. Bobby's better, but he's still love 'em and leave 'em. Tank and Lula are on and off, but he dropped her for his cats. I'm your entertainment, a line item in your budget. Tell me how any of that shows respect for women."

I literally have nothing to say. That hurt and it's unfair as hell. Well, maybe not to me, but to the guys, definitely.

"Lester and Bobby are still looking for the right one, so they're on the prowl. Just because they date widely doesn't mean that they're assholes to the women they date. Tank and Lula have issues related to trust to work on, but they are in a relationship which could be permanent if Lula is willing to take allergy shots. You and I didn't have anything more than a friendship with two nights of sex and a weird mentor/mentee thing going on until three months ago. So your _real_ problem is that none of us is married, right Babe?"

Silence. Come on Babe, you started this. And again, I'm struck by the irony of **this** conversation.

"I just think it had to come from somewhere."

Cop out Babe. I'm attacking your faulty logic head on and you don't have a backup argument for this. But I want our last moments to be good, so I'm not going to push this argument. This will be added to the list of things to talk about when this op is over.

"That's why I'm sending Ella here. I want her to make the men appreciate that I hire housekeepers who are willing to cook and clean for them. This is a bonus of working here that I can remove at any time. But Maria needs to see how the Trenton men treat Ella, how the NYC men treat Lucia. She needs to see that what's happening to her is an outlier and she should not stand for it. I'd break anyone in Trenton who treated Ella the way the men here treat Maria."

Babe is quiet. "Oh."

I look deep in her eyes. "Understand?"

She gives me a small smile. "HUA," she says softly.

I smile. "Smart ass." This feels like the perfect segue to sex. I slide down the bed and capture that very willing nipple in my mouth. Steph sighs and wiggles. I'm lavishing attention on her breasts to get her words out of my head.

Does she really think I haven't wanted a relationship with her? I have, but I want a relationship with a woman who gives a damn! About me, about herself, about the people around her. My life is dangerous and she's already my best known weakness. I need her to care about her safety but I can't force her to do that. Besides, I'm not the fucking backup choice. I wanted her to choose me and she finally has. We finally have a fucking relationship. And if she really thinks I haven't shown her respect over the last four years, we have a very serious problem already.

The more I think about this, the angrier I get. I push these thoughts away before I'm tempted to have very very angry sex.

I strip her panties and slide her legs apart, grabbing the condoms as I slide down on top of her. Once I'm ready, I stop and look at her eyes, at her face. No fear present, just anticipation and excitement. Good. I slide inside her, no gentleness, no prep, and set a fast pace. I'm slamming in and out of her body and this is edging toward rough sex. I have to get my anger and irritation under control. I slow up to a slow steady pump and glide my hands gently up and down her body. Steph wraps her legs around my waist and moans, locking me in place and squeezing her muscles tighter around me. The sound does wonders for my ego and my anger. I take her hands and lift them above her head, pinning them down. I want her open to me. I'm riding this moment out, moaning on every thrust.

"_I can't . . . fucking . . . believe . . . you said that . . . I love you . . . I've loved you . . .for a long . . . fucking time . . . shit . . . come on, Babe . . . come with me . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . oh god, how I've loved you . . . yes . . . that's it . . .Oh God yes . . ."_

Finally! I feel Steph come around me and I can't hold back. Two more thrusts have me collapsed on her trying to catch my breath. Thank God we switched back to condoms. I have my old stamina back. I use my Ranger training to shove away all thoughts except those related to making love to my Babe. Making love, not the anger-laced sex we just had. I'm ashamed I didn't do that sooner. I should not have forced myself on my Babe while I was angry with her. I need her to love me, not fear me.

I kiss Steph's lips and taste her tears. _Mierda!_ Fucked up. I know it. I was too rough at first. "Babe?" I kiss her gently. "Babe, I'm sorry." She looks at me with tears in those beautiful blue eyes and I feel like an ass. Maybe Morelli was a better choice. I'm sure he never did that shit to her. "Sore?"

She shakes her head and sighs. "No. That was wonderful. Just hard enough."

Whew! Still, I feel guilty. I pick her up and take her to the bathroom, where I run a bath in the Jacuzzi. I know she loves the shower, but when I want to pamper her, I prefer the bathtub. I settle Babe into the water and hold her close. I grab the sponge and load it up with Bvlgari and begin washing every inch of her beautiful body.

The water, the Bvlgari, and the gentle touch I'm now giving her are doing what I haven't been able to do all night: calm Steph down. She cuddles up to me and sighs, then moans as I pass a finger over her clit. I feel her tug my hand back between her legs and I smile mentally and thank God that she's really not angry at me. I slowly run my finger over her clit, tapping it and drawing circles in a random pattern. I feel her smile and open her legs wider. I slip two fingers inside her sweet channel and start a slow pump.

"When do you leave?" I ask.

"8 AM."

I drain the tub and take her back to the bedroom. She rolls over on top of me and reaches for the condoms. Reverse cowgirl. I remove my hands, place them within sight, and allow her to control this moment. I don't relinquish control often, but this feels right. As right as the feel of Steph sliding up and down my dick, squeezing and releasing with each thrust. My head rolls back and I feel Steph take my hands and place them on her breasts. I tweak her nipples and enjoy the sight of my beautiful Babe riding her orgasm out.

Why am I getting the feeling Babe understands the words _te amo_? She smiles every time I say it.

OK, this isn't quite the way I wanted this to happen, but at least it did. We checked on Hector, we had our first couples' argument (over Hector), we had sex, and in the morning, she'll leave me in the bed. I also have something new to add to the list of things we need to talk about when this op is over.

I don't respect her? How did she get that idea? I've spent four years respecting her flimsy boundaries, not pushing my advantages, not making an actual effort to rid her of The Cop because I knew it had to be her decision. I've spent four years waiting for her to decide she cares about her life, that she wants more. I've spent four years resisting the urge to force her to change, to get training, to carry her gun, because it had to be her choice. It had to be her decision. I don't want a Jeanne Ellen clone. I want Stephanie, with all her amusing innocence and loving belief in me. I want the woman who ignores the rumors and trusts my word. I want the woman who sees the man behind the myth, even while she's teasing me about being Batman.

I want the woman who still held out hope, even when I gave her absolutely no reason to.

I love and respect her. I'm just not a glutton for punishment. I'll keep tonight's argument in mind the next time I get a quiet moment in this op.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, right. Like I was really going to kill off Hector. **_**Sniffs**_**.**


	42. I Win Against Hector

**A/N: Everyone send a kind PM to Mantlady and Lyllyn for their assistance with the medical information in this chapter and aelfwyne for correcting my Spanish!**

**Also, if you were angry with Ranger in the last chapter, please raise your hands (counts hands…..one hand please….LOL…..). GOOD!**

* * *

**Chapter 42: I Win Against Hector**

**Steph's POV**

I spent the entire trip back to Trenton watching over Hector. He thought it was funny.

"_Angelita_, I am fine. Do you intend to mother me all the way home?"

"Yes. You're moving stiffly and holding that arm funny. I had to help you dress this morning."

I sat back. I think men have a blind spot for pain and injuries. Hector was moving like an 80-year-old man with a walker: slowly, carefully and painfully whenever his arm hit something. He was also breathing funny. He swore he was fine, but even if I had to knock him out (somehow) he was going straight to the hospital when we hit Trenton. I wanted to check him into a hospital in Miami, but he was determined to get out of Florida and Ranger agreed.

"Don't argue, buddy. I hate flying, my partner's been shot, and Ranger and I had a fight last night. Now is not the time to make me mad."

Hector looked over, concern on his face. "You and he fought?" he whispered, his eyebrows coming together. "Or you argued?"

Hector's face suggested I should clear that up. "We argued. About the fact that he didn't tell me you thought you might be shot. About the fact that **you** didn't tell me you thought you might be shot. About the attitudes of the Miami men to women." I sighed and flopped back in the seat, then remembered that sudden movements might cause the plane to destabilize, leading to a crash. I glanced out the window, but first class doesn't give a good view of the plane's wings.

Hector patted my hand. "OK, tell _Tío_ Hector what the argument was about," he whispered in a sing-song voice.

I looked at him, at the silly face he was making, and giggled. I can never really stay mad around Hector for long. "I thought that regardless of the situation, if there was a possibility you were going to be shot, he should have told me. You're my partner and I should have known. He disagreed. He said there was no need to ruin our last night at home and that it was only a possibility that you were going to be shot. Not definite enough for me to come back to RangeMan about," I whispered back. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because you never know who's around you. Best to stay quiet until you've verified your surroundings. Try not to use his name."

"Paranoid."

Hector nodded. "He isn't even supposed to be in the country. If someone were listening, we don't want to give it away. His counterintel op is working. Let's not ruin it by being too loud on the plane."

I sat back. "You're avoiding this discussion, Hector."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what discussion would that be?"

"The fact that **you** didn't call me to tell me you thought you **might** be shot."

"It was unnecessary. You were offline. I did not want to interrupt your last night with him."

I stared at Hector. "Thank you." He raised an eyebrow. "For treating me with the same disrespect he did." His eyes widened. "Tell me, if I thought that I was going to be shot, but I didn't call you to tell **you** in advance, then I was shot, what would you say? How would you feel?" Hector's mouth thinned. "I don't care that it was only a possibility. I should have been told."

Hector was silent for a few minutes before he sat back with a sigh. "And you are right, _Angelita_. I would have been furious. I apologize. I should have called you. I can only say, in my defense, that I am accustomed to acting alone, as are you. Tell me, would you have called me?"

My lips twitched. "No. Which is why you're getting off so easily this time."

Hector grinned and he reached for and squeezed my hands. "We will adjust. We are partners. We must be honest with each other. No acting as lone wolves."

Good. I spent the plane ride trying not to think about Ranger's points this morning, about Hector's being prepared to be shot versus my being unprepared to be shot. I hated acknowledging that he may have a point there. Hector has a lot of pride, but he still walked out in the middle of the group, allowing the other RangeMen to cover him. He wore a vest. He assumed the worst and prepared for it. I don't think I've ever done that. I complain about having RangeMen as partners, but if they had not been there last night/this morning, Hector might have died.

Sobering thought and one I didn't want to dwell on right then.

I also didn't want to think about how neatly Ranger side-stepped the issue about the Miami men. He doesn't like their attitudes, but they learned how to treat women from him. Or, maybe they didn't learn it from him, but he's allowed it. Telling me that Armando tried to run an attitude adjustment on that office makes me respect Armando more (at least he **tried** to solve the problem), but . . . I respect Ranger less for it. After all, he said he would have broken anyone in Trenton who treated Ella like the Miami men treat Maria. So why didn't he show Maria the same respect? Why did he allow the Miami men to treat Maria so badly?

Why isn't he trying to take care of the problem now? He's sending Ella in to clean up his mess. I don't like it. And again, he moved Ella without telling me. I should have known. Someone should have told me before now that Ella was going to Miami.

Dangerous thoughts and not the kind I needed to concentrate on. The pilot needed help. I needed to keep an eye on the wings.

"Right." I sighed, nodded and sat back, eyeing Hector's chest. "You're going to the hospital the moment you hit Trenton."

"No," Hector replied, stubbornly.

"Yes, or I call and tell Hector Manuel that his _Tío_ Hector is a wimp." I smirked.

Hector glared at me. "He wouldn't believe you."

"I'm his favorite lap. And I'll tell Nikki that you're being stubborn."

All the fight went out of Hector then. "Fine. But I'm worse than you are at a hospital."

Not possible.

* * *

Possible. Hector refuses to be cooperative in any way and, given my reputation at the hospital, it's clear the nurses are surprised that I'm fighting with someone else to be reasonable.

"Hector, this is insane! I'm a better patient than you are! It's just a simple test, just to check your heart and make sure everything is fine."

Hector scowls. "Not needed. They checked my vitals, confirmed I'm alive for you, what more do you want?"

"I want to know you won't fall over dead tomorrow. And if you don't get into that wheelchair, I'll . . . I'll . . ." Inspiration hits and I lean over and whisper my threat in Hector's ear. He looks at me in amusement.

"You wouldn't."

"I would." I turn to the nurse. "What floor?"

"He'll have to take the wheelchair." Hector gazes at her until she fidgets. "7th floor."

Hector turns to me. "I do not fear her. I'm only doing this because I haven't prepared for the next fight in our war. Otherwise, there's no way I would allow this."

I love my grandma. I need to know what she whispered to him at dinner.

Hector walks up to the 7th floor and submits, ungraciously, to the X-rays. This is another eye opener. For once, I get a chance to see how badly I behave in the hospital. I still hate hospitals and I refuse to stay in one, but watching Hector showed me that if I just let them get on with the tests, I could be in and out much faster. Especially with Bobby, or in this case, Zero, moving things along.

Zero met us in Philly and had all the necessary tests scheduled back-to-back at St. Francis, in Trenton, to get us in and out of the hospital, but Hector was being stubborn about each one. He glared at Zero so many times that Zero had taken to hanging out with the doctors, giving me time to hiss angrily in Hector's ears.

_"¿Por qué necesito un EKG?"_ (Why do I need an EKG?)

"Because I want to know you'll live." I'm annoyed. Zero looks amused, but he's doing a good job doing translation services.

"_¿Qué te hace pensar que no lo hará?"_ (What makes you think I won't?)

"Because those bruises have gotten bigger since yesterday."

"Ultrasound is next," Zero supplies helpfully. _"El ultrasonido es el siguiente."_

Hector glares at him and Zero finds a spot on the wall to become very interested in. He looks at me and I'm near tears. The sight seems to soften him. His shoulders droop.

_"Está bien. EKG, luego ultrasonido."_ (Fine. EKG, then ultrasound.)

Hector glares at me, but I'm unmoved. I might not be able to hold his back in the field right now, but I can damn well ensure he gets the best medical care. I love my partner. I want him to live. The nurse comes by and clips Hector's finger for an oxygen reading.

"_No puedo creer que estoy sometiéndo me a toda esta locura. Lágrimas. Por el amor de Dios, ¿cómo debe un hombre luchar contra las lágrimas? No es justo. Mi hermano no sabrá qué hacer. Pregunto yo, sera que ella usa lágrimas contra él. ._ ._" _(I can't believe I'm submitting myself to all this craziness. Tears. For the love of God, how is a man supposed to fight against tears? It's not fair! My brother won't know what to do. I wonder if she uses tears against him . . .)

_Lágrimas_? I look at Zero but he shakes his head, smiling. "Angry mutters. You don't want to know."

I raise an eyebrow and he hides a smile. "OK, you want to know, but it's more of the same. We're men. Pain is nothing."

I sniff and pick up a two year old People Magazine.

Men.

* * *

The EKG shows no problems with Hector's heart, but I'm keeping an eye on those bruises. They've gotten darker since yesterday and I'm scared. The ultrasound showed ecchymosis, hematomas, which Zero explains means pooling of blood under Hector's skin. That's why the bruises have gotten darker.

The X-rays come back. Hector has a fractured scapula.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Broken shoulder blade," Zero replies. The doctor nods and Hector looks irritated. "He got lucky that it didn't hit the socket." Zero explains a bunch of stuff to Hector in Spanish and the longer the explanation, the more Hector's face relaxes. By the end, he's calm, if annoyed. His mouth is set in a hard line.

Zero turns to me. "Treatment of a broken scapula, shoulder blade, is minimal. We'll put him in a shoulder sling for about a month, maybe six weeks. We'll get him home and ice it down, alternating ice and heat for the next 48 hours. Pain relief as needed. We'll schedule massages starting in two weeks after another ultrasound because we don't want to affect those hematomas. We want those to decrease on their own. Also, physical therapy for the shoulder starting in a week or two so it doesn't get stiff. Everything is going to be based on his pain levels."

I nod. "Can you handle that or should I ask Sarah to add Hector onto her rotation?"

Hector growls but I ignore him. Zero looks ready to bolt. "I think you should," he looks at Hector, "umm … I think you should ask Hector."

"You ask him, but make sure he understands I want what's best. After all, he's going to want to pick up Hector Manuel and teach him to swim this summer. He's going to need that shoulder."

Bingo! All fight leaves Hector at the mention of his beloved son.

Zero asks Hector what he wants and Hector says he'd work with Sarah. Might as well get our money's worth out of her. Plus, while I'm swimming, he can relax his shoulder in the whirlpool. Meanwhile, I call Connie for the name of a masseuse who can work on Hector twice a week until he's better. She gives me the name of a woman she knows and I call and schedule twice a week appointments for myself and Hector. I still have physical therapy too. Might as well schedule a massage.

The doctor returns with a shoulder sling for Hector and I glare at him until he allows them to put it on him. Actual total time in hospital: four hours. Possible total time in hospital: 2½ hours, if Hector weren't so difficult.

Hmm. Something new to consider. Later.

* * *

On the way back to RangeMan, my phone rings. Bobby.

"Yo!"

"Yo! Nice job, Bomber."

"RangeMan phone manners still suck. I'm still going to modify SOPs for that."

Bobby laughs. "Good luck. We're men. We don't spend unnecessary time on the phone."

"And yet we're chatting and you haven't gotten to the purpose of this call."

"Well, I'm talking to a woman, so I thought I might modify, but if it's not necessary—"

"No, no! I'm enjoying it. So, tell me, what have you done new with your hair?"

Zero snorts then coughs to hide a laugh. He quickly translates the conversation over to Hector, who smiles and shakes his head. Bobby is definitely laughing on the other end of the phone.

"Well, the San Antonio heat is really making me rethink the braids. I'm thinking a low fade now, maybe work on putting some waves in. You? Thinking of chemically straightening?"

This is absolutely silly. I'm laughing at this point.

"I keep thinking I want to cut. You know, something cute and curly."

"You might want to avoid that, Bomber. Remember the egg incident?"

Do the RangeMen have my mishaps mentally categorized? How does Bobby remember that?

"It was an interesting cut. Hard to forget."

I have to stop talking out loud. "OK, now that we've discussed hair, what's up? This is random."

"Yeah, I know." Bobby's voice is quiet and serious. "I'm flying in tomorrow to fire Liam. We heard from Manny yesterday. He's got him stitched up and the lawyers have reviewed. Airtight in Manny's opinion and, since the attorneys never lost a case taken to trial on his evidence when he was a feeb, I believe him. Time for Liam to go."

I sit back. I want to be there. There was absolutely no way I was going to miss this firing. But Hector needs me more.

"OK. I need to see how Hector's feeling and I need to arrange something."

"Why? What happened?"

I sigh. "I think I better let him tell you." I pass the phone to Hector and sit back. It takes Hector ten minutes to discuss what had happened with Bobby. Hector passes the phone to Zero and I assume Zero spends ten minutes discussing Hector's care plan with Bobby. Both discussions were in Spanish and Zero's had too many new words. Finally, Zero passes the phone back to me.

"OK, Steph?"

"Yeah."

"I'll stay long enough to check Hec personally, OK?"

I can feel the tears well up and my throat tightens. "Thanks, Bobby."

"De nada. Look, are you sure you want to be there? You don't have to be. We can stream it to you."

"No. I want to be there. I need to be there. He spread lies and made me doubt Manny for a half second. I need to pay him back for that," I hiss angrily.

"Rowwwrr," Bobby says, and I laugh again. "OK. Well, I'm flying in tomorrow. Firing will be Sunday morning, 0500 . . . sorry, 5AM. It's about two hours from Trenton to RM-NYC, so plan accordingly. I think I'd feel better if you brought Ram or Hal with you. Hector and I talked it over. Let Hector stay home and rest with Zero watching over him. That way, if anything changes, Zero can call you immediately."

"OK."

"I'm not staying long. Just long enough to authorize the lawyers to file suit, fire Liam, and let Javi know Leadership Core supports him. I'll probably drive back with you on Sunday afternoon and fly from Philly on Monday or Tuesday."

"OK, sounds like a plan. I'll see you Sunday." We disconnect and Hector turns around.

"_Vas despedir a Liam en persona. Me quedaré en casa. Voy a estar bien." _(You will go and fire Liam in person. I'll stay home. I'll be fine.)

Zero translates and I nod. I may be able to squeak out a win here. "I'll go only if you move to RangeMan for a week."

Hector's mouth sets. _"No soy un invalid."_ (I'm not an invalid.)

"It would make me feel better. I'll go with Ram and we'll come right back. You can watch my trackers." Hector's mouth is still in a hard line. "Please, Hector. I would worry less if I knew Zero was right there."

Hector stares at me but finally he nods. He turns to Zero. _"Si dices a cualquiera que ella me obligo quedar en el edificio por un sentido de culpa yo te rebane._" (You tell anyone she guilted me into staying in the building and I'll slice you.)

Zero nods. "_Me perdí esa conversación por completo. ¿Se suponía que lo han escuchado?_" (I missed that conversation entirely. Was I supposed to have heard it?)

I smile. I caught enough of their conversation to understand. I won.

* * *

Hector's apartment is a techie's dream, I guess. There are at least five computers, monitors, big spindles of DVDs, and magazines on computer equipment and technology everywhere. There's a flat black box on the floor, which Zero later told me looked like a server, and lots of books, big thick books. I flip open the pages and get a headache. I think Hector must be working on a Master's degree in something. The books are heavy enough.

Hector and Zero move to Hector's bedroom and I stay in the smaller bedroom where I find an iPad. I think quickly and enter Hector Manuel's birthday. Hector told me, offhand, when we were in Atlanta, because he was trying to come up with a gift. I get it right on the fourth try, and it isn't a straightforward MMDD combination. It was DD + 2, MM +2, for his current age. Pays to think like Hector.

I notice a big red dot on the screen and touch it. _Mijo,_ the bubble says, so that must be Hector Manuel in Atlanta. Curiously, the bubble shows him at the RangeMan building. I also see another bubble in pink. _Pri_. Ah. _Primo_. So that's Nikki. Interesting that none of us are identified by name. I keep looking, zooming out and searching, and find a yellow dot. I'll bet . . . _Ang_. Yup, I'm tagged inside Hector's home. Blue dot in Texas. . . _Méd_. Médico? Doctor? Bobby. Ah . . . Brown dot . . . I'll bet this is Tank. _Tác_ . . . No idea. Hmm . . . Green dot . . . _Cuc_ . . . No idea.

Black dot near Miami moving fast. _Tig_. No clue, but it has to be Ranger. Hmm . . . so no matter what, Hector has us all tagged. He knows where everyone is. I zoom back to my dot and find another dot right next to it. Purple.

"Mine."

I jump a foot in the air. Hector smirks and I can hear Ranger in my head. "Don't say it," I moan. He nods.

I point at the blue dot. "Bobby." Brown dot. "Tank." Green dot. "Lester."

Great. So even though I can't figure out the bubbles, I understand the color scheme. No need to ask about black.

I stay out of the way while Hector and Zero pack enough clothes for a month at Trenton. They come out of the bedroom with a medium sized suitcase. Hector has a soft-sided briefcase, as does Zero.

I gape at it. "Where's the rest of your clothes?" I ask, taking the briefcase from him. We have a tug of war for a moment before he finally gives up and raises an eyebrow.

Zero translates and they look at each other. Hector smirks.

"_Llevamos SWAT negro durante el día. Aparte de bóxers limpias y calcetines, algunos con ropa casual y un traje, ¿qué más necesito?"_ (We wear black SWAT all day. Other than clean boxers and socks, a few casual clothes and a suit, what more do I need?)

I merely blink. Men. My entire wardrobe is in Ranger's closet now.

We arrive back at RMTrenton and Hector moves slowly and cautiously into the building. I walk in, expecting to call Ella when I realize Ella isn't here. Maria is. We move to the fourth floor and inside Apartment 1 when we spot her, making the bed.

Maria is a tall, shapely woman somewhere around 50. Her warm brown eyes immediately widen at the sight of Hector and she takes his arm and moves him to the bedroom. Before Zero and I can say anything, she has Hector stripped to his boxers and tucked in bed with the remote and a glass of water. She starts dabbing cream on him and Hector is watching this with a look of bemused astonishment on his face.

"Those are horrific looking bruises Hector, so you **will** stay in the bed for a few days and rest." She turns to Zero, who is trying hard not to smile. "Is he on bed rest?"

"If you can get him to stay there. And he only speaks Spanish."

Maria nods and turns back to Hector with a flurry of what sounds like orders. I don't think Ella would even attempt this, but Maria is not allowing an argument.

I think my partner is in very good hands and I already have a reason to like Maria.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

The morning is quiet. I ask Armando to gather all the men in Conference 1 for a five minute meeting.

When I arrive, it's silent.

"I'm running an op." The men nod. "It's domestic. The fact that I'm stateside needs to stay classified. If I hear chatter in Boston, if Hector hears chatter in the network, I will find out and I will eliminate. No one will find your body. No exceptions."

Every man swallows hard. Now they understand the severity of the situation.

I turn to Shane. "You, follow me." I turn to the company. "Dismissed."

Shane follows me to my office. I shut the door behind him.

"You are fighting for your life right now."

His eyes widen and he nods.

"I haven't liked what I've heard so far. Javier will remain in place. Liam is being fired." I wait a moment and let that sink in. "Bobby is handling his firing."

Shane sways slightly and swallows hard. I may be known for taking men to the mats and leaving them in pain, Tank may be known for giving concussions and Lester may be known for a thousand small cuts, but Bobby? Bobby is the ultimate punishment on the mats. Even I bow to his superiority. It's why Bobby rarely gives mat time. When Bobby gives mat time, men are out for months in debilitating pain. That man uses his knowledge of the human body to make every cell hurt.

Bobby is the person who does 'exit interviews' in the rare event of a termination.

"You have one quarter to prove you know what you're doing. Otherwise, Bobby will conduct your exit interview also. Understood?"

Shane nods, looking like a bobble head. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Dismissed."

The house doesn't feel the same without Steph here. It seems empty and cold. As usual, Babe came into my personal space and gave it life and without her, I almost don't want to stay here. I spend the rest of the morning cleaning and I can't move anywhere in the house without thinking about the time we spent here together. Jesus! I have to clear my mind of her before I start shuffling through intel again. Finally, I give up. I grill the leftover fish and have a salad and decide to call this an off day.

I can see some changes in Steph already. She's . . . well, she's definitely dropped some weight. Her entire body looks good, taut. She carries herself differently. She's not more aware, not by a long shot, but . . . I can't describe it. Mature? The Steph I knew would never take offline time to check in with work. She didn't give me hell about eating healthy. Hell, she didn't even put up a fight about the exercise. She wasn't curious to know everything all the time. She just kinda sat back and went with the flow.

It put me on guard at first, wondering if something was going on, but I realized that she was really kicking back and enjoying the break from work. I hope she enjoyed the little time we had to sneak away by ourselves. Hearing her say that she understood my need for solitude, that she also saw 7 as her sanctuary now filled me with quiet joy. She understood. After a hard day of work, I want quiet and peace. I'm not interested in a night in the clubs or trying to listen to inane chatter. Now that she had the struggles of my day, she understood my needs better.

My Babe is finally starting to understand the pressures of my life. I felt as if I had a partner this week, someone who cared about my interests and understood my lifestyle. I finally felt as if we could truly have a relationship. Even with last night's fight, I still felt as if she'd grown up a little. We actually talked . . . actually, I talked. I see now what Les meant about needing to show her emotions. I took the time to explain my reasoning to her (which felt weird and uncomfortable) and we both said what we needed to. We had an argument. We resolved it. Neither of us ran away.

I sit back on the patio and smile.

Neither of us ran away.

* * *

Hector's dot system:

Red: _Mijo_ – my son, for Hector Manuel

Pink: _Pri_ – _Primo_ (cousin), for Nikki

Yellow: _Ang – Angelita_ (Little Angel) for Stephanie

Blue: _Méd_ – _Médico_ (Doctor) for Bobby

Brown: _Tác – Tácito _(Taciturn) for Tank

Green: _Cuc_ – _Cuchillas_ (Blades) for Lester

Black: _Tig – El Tigre _(The Tiger) for Ranger

Purple: _Ase_ – _Asesino_ (Assassin) for Hector

* * *

**A/N: Next week? GORGE. Two Chapters, three side stories. A new chapter every day from Tuesday-Saturday. Brownc0at needs some love! **


	43. Come Talk to ME

**A/N: On legal advice, I'm taking liberties with the admissibility of their evidence in court. The fines and jail time for this sort of activity **_**have**_** been increased, but proving it . . . well, proving it is still difficult.**

_**Hehe…..Release. . . . the Kraken!**_

* * *

**Chapter 43: Come Talk to ME**

**Bobby's POV**

We drew straws to see who would get to go to NYC for this 'branch visit'. I was determined to go; liaisons fall under me, and I was determined to administer Liam's outgoing ass whooping. Les was equally determined to go; the branch falls under his review, and if it's been failing because Liam couldn't keep his mouth closed—well, Les really wanted to draw blades.

Tank resolved it by reminding Les that **I** was in charge of "exit interviews".

I won. Lester will travel to the branch shortly after Bomber arrives to back her up in person. If NYC responds to her like Atlanta did, I doubt there will be many problems, but considering we're getting rid of 2/3 of management, he wants to ensure that the men understand she's in charge.

No biggie. I have the traitor to execute.

I touch down at LaGuardia and travel the few miles into Brooklyn. My arrival is a complete surprise to everyone except Manny. Diego is unconcerned. He knows that whatever is going on, he's not in trouble, so he's going to continue to do what he needs to in order get the branch operating again. Javier is instantly nervous, but he hides it well. Liam is stunned and nervous but immediately becomes cheerful. He thinks I'm here to fire Javier.

Wrong, fucker. I'm here to make **your** life a living hell.

I haven't said a word to anyone. I travel up to the 6th floor and stash my gear in Lester's apartment. Manny followed orders precisely. The dossier detailing Liam's treachery is in the apartment ready for my review. I do a quick sweep with the bug detector, but the apartment is clean. Good. I would have had his ass for that too. 47 motherfucking bugs. . . I swear if there'd even been one, the guys would need to scrape Liam off the concrete. I take a shower, kick back and start reading.

Over the next three hours, I have to stop repeatedly to let off steam. Manny's done an excellent job, as befits a former cop. He has audio recordings and transcripts of Liam's calls with CombinedSecurities, printouts of documents and emails from his computer (from Hector and Nate), and videotape from Liam's skulking in the perimeter of the building. He even tailed Liam and actually caught him at a restaurant talking to a man from CombinedSecurities, handing over information and taking a payoff. Hector hacked his personal email and bank accounts and has accounted for all payments and has copies of all communications. It's enough to convict and it's airtight; Manny sent it to the lawyers and they've confirmed that he is in violation of his contract and non-disclosure agreement. They have a laundry list of other charges, but it doesn't matter. In short, this is definitely corporate espionage.

Liam can't claim that he was involved in 'competitive intelligence gathering' because he's an employee of RangeMan and this information would have been available to him. It's not public knowledge or knowledge that could be gained through public sources. He's in violation of his contract, in particular, his non-disclosure agreement. He did it with the expectation, and receipt, of monetary gain from those he sold the information to, and he's not an independent operator.

The state and federal laws have been tightened recently. Fines in the millions and significant jail time are being handed out if you can prove it. Thanks to Manny, we can. Excellent.

I call Javier up to the apartment. He steps in with the face of a worried man. Les had a point. We need to back this man up more. He did his best while being undermined constantly. Poor fucker; with our eyes on Trenton, we damn near left him to die. I feel a bit ashamed of myself right now.

I motion for him to take a seat while I grab some beer. I'm contemplating what I need to say to Javi right now, what he needs to hear from me, and I remember what my grandmother used to tell me: If you have to apologize, start with 'I'm sorry'.

"On behalf of the Leadership Core, I apologize to you, Javier. We are sorry."

The apology stuns him. After a moment, he swallows hard and nods.

"You asked us repeatedly for the things you needed to survive, and we didn't heed your call until it was almost too late. We didn't provide you with the RangeMan brotherhood we should have. We should have come up here sooner to investigate why you were having so many problems. We left you here to handle it on your own when you had made it clear you needed help. So, again, I'm sorry. It will **never** happen again. You can always call on us and we **will** answer the call from now on."

Our eyes meet and I can see that he's trying not to cry. I move off toward the bathroom to give him a moment to pull himself together. When I return, his eyes are red-rimmed but he's calm. His face is clear.

"What do you need from the Leadership Core? I'm listening. I'll work with the CO to make it happen."

He nods and I grab another beer for each of us. I told Manny and Diego to have dinner out, not to expect either of us. I call Lucia to bring dinner for Javi and me. I grab my folio and return to the living room.

Javier has squared his shoulders. "I want Liam gone."

"Done. His ass is grass tomorrow. That's why I'm here." I smile. "I won Rock Paper Scissors with Les to be the one. Otherwise, Lucia would be cleaning up blood right now."

Javi chuckles and sits back. "I don't want Shane back either. They had no respect for me, but I backed them up and never let anyone question or disrespect them. I didn't allow anyone to question their decisions and they stabbed me in the back. I'll never trust Shane again."

"Done." Ranger's issued the warning, but he's gone from Miami too. RangeMan brotherhood will apply to Armando. Otherwise, we'll always have to watch Shane to see if he betrays Armando. No. We're not going through this again. Let's get the evidence necessary to show cause and fire his ass.

He nods. "Manny and Diego have some great ideas for my pipeline, but I already know that Diego won't stay. He hates NYC, but he does acknowledge that he knows the CO is going to leave him here until the branch is back in the black. So, I'm asking for permission to have Manny search the company for a strategist for me."

I nod. "Done. I'll ask Manny to get on that. I'll tell Les too, in case he has some candidates in mind."

Javi smiles. "I'd like to use the Trenton model to find a liaison. I have three guys that might be good in the role, and I'd like you to meet with each of them while you're here. If you're OK with them, I'll try them out."

"OK." I make a note. All these are reasonable so far.

"I'd also like to get some more men on a short term basis. I don't have a lot of contract workers. My pipeline there is dry also because my contract guys have all pretty much been hired on. If I'm going to survive another quarter, I need men. Manny and Diego asked for men from Atlanta, Boston and Trenton, but I think I need a few more."

I nod. "Reasonable. Done. How many do you need?"

Javi thinks. "Can I get five total from each branch?"

Twenty total. I nod. Matter of fact, we can send five from San Antonio, RangeMen not recruits. Now that the new hires are starting to get the idea, we can start moving our men back to their home offices slowly. I'll check with Lester about moving the NYC RangeMen back faster, if possible. "Done. I'll have Steph send the order out."

"I'd also like permission to hire for the business investigations unit Diego and Manny have come up with. It means I'll also need capital for computers, desks, all that stuff. Whatever they think is necessary to make it work."

"Coordinate with the guys, Hector, and Steph on that. We'll give Steph an account to pull from." Leadership Core may have to pull from reserves on this, but if Manny and Diego think it's a good idea, we'll pilot it. Les loves it already and wants to see it up and running.

Lucia arrives with dinner, so we move to the dining room. After grace, we start chowing down.

"Anything else you need?"

Javi thinks then shakes his head. "No. I think that will do for the moment. I just want to get the branch back up on its feet."

I nod. "Don't hesitate to ask Steph or Les for what you need. Steph is committed to backing her XOs. She'll be here tomorrow morning."

He looks up sharply. "Why?"

I grin. "I have an outgoing ass whooping to administer."

* * *

**A/N: The following scene is graphic and disturbing. If you don't want your opinion of Bobby to change, skip to the next section. Remember, Bobby is beyond furious and he has the training necessary to make this **_**beyond**_** painful. The Kraken is being released!**

**My sincerest thanks goes out to Lyllyn for reviewing this to prevent medical impossibilities!**

* * *

Amazingly, Bomber is in the gym at 0450. So is every NYC RangeMan, and they're quiet. Everyone knows this is going to be very serious. I demanded that all NYC RangeMen present themselves at this session, no excuses. The men from the other branches are manning the monitors and performing all necessary duties right now. Still, the RM-NYC men can't help but steal looks over at the CO and the Trenton liaison who has accompanied her. Both are dressed in SWAT black, both look mean and mad as hell, and both are standing on the side of the mats, arms crossed. Hector has overridden all cameras; the feed is going out company wide. "Exit interviews" are rare. Every man needs to see the _initial_ penalty for treason.

Upper Management walks in at 0455 and stands to the sides of the mats. All are dressed in SWAT black and have their blank faces on.

I'm standing in the middle of the mats, barefoot and stripped to the waist. I flex and smile.

"Liam. Come talk to me."

Liam looks astonished, then terrified. Ranger's mat reputation is well earned but mine? Mine is the one that makes men piss themselves. I rarely take men to the mats, but when I do, they don't get up again for weeks. There are 43 major pressure points on the human body and, when I'm pissed, I hit all the ones that won't result in instant death. I'm beyond pissed right now.

When I take men to the mats, I call ahead and order extra pain relief and casts for the unlucky fucker.

Liam looks as if he'd rather do anything aside from step on the mats with me.

"Liam!" Bomber yells. I'm amused but hiding it. "I'm here at 5 in the fucking AM. Get your ass on that mat! **NOW**!"

The fury in Bomber's voice would almost make you think she has some mat skills. I'm buying her an ice cream cone later. I'm sure, somewhere, Ranger has a woody he can't explain. I feel mine stirring.

Liam has gone completely white but he finally steps onto the mats. The moment both feet make it, I rush him. Blow to the sternum and he's flat on his back wheezing.

"Get up. You wanna talk? Talk to me."

I haul him up and hurl him to the center of the mats. He lands, sprawled, and goes sliding right to Bomber. She stops him with her foot, kicks him in the knee, and shoves him back to the center of the mat.

How in the hell is she giving me a woody when my mind should be on this fight? Sorry, interview.

I pull Liam back up by the throat and dodge his attempt at a punch. Quick elbow strike on the side of his head easily knocks him backwards. Strike from the heel of my hand to his jaw produces pain and shock. I don't want this over too quickly. He's going to know pain when I'm done.

"Talk to me, Liam," I croon gently. "Talk to me about what a great job you've been doing here in NYC. Tell me about how you and Shane have been backing your XO."

"We have!" he croaks. "We have, but Javier's too stupid to be in charge. He constantly screws up. We can't get the branch going because of him."

He's hobbling because of the knee, and I sweep his legs to take him down again. A little pressure on the pulse point on the side of his shin and his right leg is now out of commission for a few minutes.

"Really? How does bugging his office help him? 47 motherfucking bugs? Sounds real fucking helpful. Why not talk to him? You like to talk. Talk to your XO. Talk to me now. Talk to me, Marine, and tell me what the penalty for treason is."

I'm waiting for him to stand back up. It takes him a while but he's finally standing. His eyes reflect that he knows what's happening now and that he's in a fight to his death. He finally takes a fighter's stance. Good. I hate hitting passive targets.

I unleash a flurry of punches, jabs, and kicks to every vulnerable spot on his body. He's hitting back, but I'm twice as fast and I studied kinesiology. While he's trying to cover one side of his body, I'm hitting another. I strike his right ear hard. A little known move, striking the ear will leave an opponent thinking of nothing more than how to stop the ringing and pain and how to regain their balance. Hell, let's double the fun and hit the mastoid process while we're at it. Might make it hard for him to hear me, but he's not answering questions anyway.

"You haven't answered the question, Liam. How does bugging the XO and the strategist help this branch? How does sinking contracts help? How does sinking the strategist's ideas help? How does putting the livelihood of every man in this room at risk help them? **What is the penalty for treason?**"

Blow to the ear did the trick. His balance is shot. Open season for me. Sternum, jaw, chin, nose, ribs, knees, toes, every soft and delicate place is getting hit. Time to pull those hamstrings. Time to bruise the delicate bones in his foot with my heel. I like to work my way up the body.

"Liam, you're quiet. Talk to me. You like to talk. Let's talk. After all, I can see you didn't pay attention during Semper-Fu. Did you get past the Tan belt, Marine?"

Unrelenting jabs to his diaphragm keep him wheezing and huddled over, not good with balance problems. Back of the knees, kick to the ass, crack a rib, bruise a vertebra. There's a lot to be said for professional wrestling; they have a lot of interesting moves, like the _Go to Sleep_.

"How does selling RangeMan secrets to CombinedSecurities help these men, huh?"

I pick Liam up and drop him in a way that sees his face meeting my knee. It's a hard and painful life Liam will lead when I'm done. More importantly, I'm fixing Javi's reputation. The men were confused, but now they're starting to look angry. Now they understand why the liaison is on the mats instead of the XO.

"How does ruining the reputation of this branch help these men? You realize that he's passed review? You realize you failed? Manny and Diego set both of you up. They wanted to see who would leak where. Surprise surprise. The XO, the one with the rep, doesn't leak."

Now every man in the room looks murderous. Good. No one will help him home. Hell, no one will help him out this gym.

Two jabs to the lower back at the base of the spine. Kidneys are located here but, little known fact, the main muscle cords and nerves branch out from this area. This is a foul shot in boxing, but I'm not boxing. I'm conducting an "exit interview". Floating ribs, another kick in the ass, glancing blow to his dick. I'm a man. I won't hit him there, but he will know some pain in that region. He'll piss blood painfully.

"I'm your fucking boss! You report to me and you have the nerve to lie to me. You think I'm going to tolerate that? You think I'm going to stand for it? No! Fuck, I'm going to make sure you **can't** stand."

He's trying to fight back, but it's not much of a fight. I give him some credit for remaining on his feet though. I guess he knows that if he stays down I might just kill him.

"Iss no thrue. I didn't leak. I didn't tell nothin'."

He speaks to tell me lies. Nothing I hate more than a liar. Blow to the philtrum, the area between the nose and top lip. Don't swallow your teeth, Liam. It's irritating enough you're dripping blood. I hit the muscles in his thighs from the sides. Combined with the earlier blows to the hamstrings, walking might be shot for weeks, if not months. Good.

"We're standing behind the man who cares about this branch. Who is here to ensure that the men he leads have jobs and can support their families. Tell me, how were you helping his efforts?"

Blows to the arms. I twist his wrist, taking a blow from his other fist. I break his elbow and he goes down crying in pain. I break his fingers. Try holding your dick to piss now, motherfucker. I'd break all ten but you have paperwork to sign later. A knee strike to the insides of his thigh where the peroneal nerve is located and he drops in pain.

"You're not talking, Liam. I'm here in person. Talk to me."

Blow to the solar plexus and he drops again. I stand over him, bouncing on my toes.

"You always have so much shit to say when I call you. Talk, goddammit! Tell these men why NYC has the reputation of leaking like a sieve. It's because the liaison **talks too fucking much! Not the XO!** Now get the fuck up."

The men are shifting, murderous. It's becoming clear Liam will not walk out. He finally stands, wheezing, limping, and I'm back to work. Diaphragm, shoulder, ankle, shoulder, ankle. I hear ligaments in his ankles pop and he goes down. Good. That's painful, but I step on his foot. Ankle broken.

"Do you understand why you're on the ground, Liam? Do you understand why I'm not giving you **any** mercy? It's because you have **betrayed** the RangeMan brotherhood! You have betrayed these men! You were a leader here, you were in management, and you sold them down the river! You destabilized this branch to the point of near collapse! And now, when I question you about it, you have the nerve, the **gall,** to **lie** to me about it! And since you won't answer the question, the penalty for treason is **death**!"

Bladder punch. He pisses himself. Humiliation complete. He's down on the ground, crying, whimpering. I survey the damage. It's not enough. Not nearly. A phone rings and I look around for the culprit. Bomber. She passes the phone.

"He's still identifiable. Fix that." Lester. I hand the phone back to Bomber and nod.

I smile and look back at Liam. He knows I have his life in my hands right now.

I pull him up by his shirt and look at him. "You will sign your resignation and your non-compete agreement. You are barred from working in this industry for fifteen years. Hector will be watching to see what you're up to. I will be talking to CombinedSecurities today to let them know that if they act on any of the information they received from you, we'll take them to court. You don't have a job there."

I end this statement with a flurry of blows to his face. Chin, nose, cheeks, eyes, he'll need reconstructive surgery when it's over. Bomber steps onto the mats and I look over at her, eyebrow raised. She steps in front of me and lets that lethal knee fly.

_Shiiit_. I couldn't have done it, but she did. Every man in the room winces slightly. She glares at Liam.

"I don't appreciate lies, about me or about these men. If you haven't figured it out, you're fired."

* * *

Ram and Javier escort Liam to Javier's office, where Manny has him sign a thick stack of papers, one of which is a full confession of his activities. Lucia has already cleared his office of his personal items, and she hands Manny the box as he and Diego walk him out. While they're doing that, I'm still in the gym with Bomber.

Time to address the men. Here in NYC and all over the company.

"If you haven't figured it out, Liam was the biggest problem at this branch, not Javier. We're waiting to see the results of Shane's performance in Miami, but he won't return here. I meant what I said on the mats. We're standing behind Javier. He cares about all of you. He cares about getting it right. He cares about succeeding here."

The men are standing at attention. Every man looks solemn.

"Of course, if you don't give a damn, please let me know now. I'm feeling good right now, feeling limber. I am more than happy to accept written and verbal resignations right now."

None of the men move.

"That was a RangeMan "exit interview". If you want one, fuck up after today. My expectation is that when Stephanie and I leave, you men will throw your support behind your XO. Work with him. Do what's right. NYC will soon see a temporary influx of men from the other branches in order to stabilize this branch. They are your RangeMan brothers. You will work with them. Put the word out to anyone you think might be a good employee that we're hiring."

The men nod. I look at Bomber and nod. She turns to the men.

"I am not starting the review today. I am here solely to back up my XO and to ensure you understand that I stand behind the firing of Liam. He's spread lies that have cost this branch dearly. Work with the strategists I've sent to help Javier pull this branch back into the black. Show the company that NYC is a force to be reckoned with, not ignored."

"**HUA!**"

Bomber and I are both taken aback by the response. The men are nodding now, some smiling. Bomber smiles.

"I read all emails I'm sent. I take all suggestions seriously. Talk to your XO, talk to the strategists, talk to me. We will listen. Bobby and I will both be here all day to listen to your concerns and answer your questions. We want to leave knowing that you men stand behind your XO."

The men all have small smiles and are nodding now.

"Dismissed."

* * *

I clean up while Bomber surveys Les's NYC apartment. I walk out in my boxers and she whistles.

"Bobby, you're giving me thoughts."

I grin. "Act on them. Please. I don't get enough action." My balls are tingling. I'm insane. Ranger will kill me, and I just spent 10 minutes getting rid of those thoughts.

Bomber's eyes widen and she grins, then laughs. "Really? Let me see your phone."

Lester. I'm going to hurt that idiot. I slide into my cargoes and find a black T-shirt. "Tsk tsk. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to tease?"

"Are you kidding? Burg 101." She shifts into a teasing, sing song voice. "Teasing men is a gateway to hell. They start _lusting_. They start thinking things that no good girl should be interested in until marriage. _For lust is a shameful sin, a devastating fire that destroys to hell._" She collapses back onto the couch in a fake swoon, and I drop next to her, laughing.

Same thing my sisters were told when I was a kid. Nice to see some cultural norms are the same. "Job 31?"

Bomber shrugs. "I didn't think lusting after a triple decker cone was a gateway to hell. Sticky fingers, yes, hell, no. So I usually ignored my mother. Curiosity, not lust, was my problem."

I shake my head. "Still is, nosy."

She sticks her tongue out at me, and I kiss her forehead. My third little sister. God, I hope she and Ranger finally get their shit straight. Life would be excellent if they did. We sit in silence, smiling for a few moments.

"I apologized to Javi yesterday." Bomber looks over at me and I nod. "We've talked a lot about what happened here in NYC. We didn't back up our own statements about loyalty. We left him to die. We owe him a lot of support." I kiss both her cheeks and smush her face between my palms. She grins. "You are doing an outstanding job, Bomber. Believe me, we're proud of you. We knew you could do it, and just in case you didn't know, you have our full support. Give 'em hell, Bomber."

"Thanks," she says quietly. Then she grins. "I'd like my face back please."

I laugh and let her go, pulling her off the couch. "Come on, let's go back up our XO."

We spend the rest of the day making sure the men know we back Javi. I meet his three candidates for the liaison position and approve all three to take the reins for a week. I remind Javi not to feel pressured to make a decision now. If he likes all three, give them each another week at the reins and remember that this person will also become management. The liaison has to be someone he likes, trusts, can work with and can support the branch. It's a big job and it's more than just doing communications. Bomber walks in and volunteers Adam in Atlanta to help.

"I would leave Ram, but if I move Ram from Trenton again, Hal will chain me in front of the monitors for the rest of my life."

Javier and I smirk. Hal's nervousness about Bomber's willingness to poach from Trenton is known. Javi calls Danny and requests Adam for three weeks.

"Man, you're taking my men, now you want my liaison? What next? Kidney? My sons? You can't have my wife. I can't afford for her to be anywhere near Madison Avenue."

Javi and I laugh.

"Three weeks, man. Just to help me weed through liaison prospects."

"Surprised Steph didn't suggest Ram. He's excellent at it and he's closer." Ram grins. He walked in just in time to hear that statement.

"I can't take on Hal," Bomber replies. "If I leave Ram here without returning Manny, Hal will kill me."

Laughs from Danny. "Hey CO! Didn't know you were there. Yeah, I can believe that. Hal wants his men back. I keep closing in on him every week."

Ah. Makes sense now. Hal and Danny's little competition is hilarious and it's good for their branches. Danny agrees to send Adam up for three weeks to help. Javier meets with his liaison candidates and tells them they're auditioning under the Trenton model. Adam will be here by 9AM tomorrow to assess them and help back them up. Each man smiles; he's being gifted an opportunity to join the leadership of the branch.

Bomber is drooping now. It's 1½ hours back to Trenton, which means that she and Ram have been up since at least 3AM. It's 11AM now and if they don't leave by 3PM, NYC traffic won't let up until 7PM. Plus, she keeps checking her phone. I raise an eyebrow.

"Hector."

Every man in the room stiffens. "How is he?" I ask.

"Pretending he's not in pain," she replies quietly. "Are you sure you have time to come check on him? I mean, Zero did a great job of getting us through all the tests and—"She bites her lip and looks away. Damn. Hector must be more serious than we thought.

"I won't leave without seeing him," I tell her. Her eyes are shining from unshed tears, and I pass my handkerchief over. We all sit in silence for a moment. I don't doubt that Hector will live, but the very thought that someone might take him down . . . that requires a moment of silence. Hector is fucking indestructible. Hector is one of the few men in my life I trust without reservation.

I consider what needs to be done. "Crash the couch," I tell her and Ram. "I'll drive back tonight and you two can sleep in the SUV." They both nod. I run upstairs and pull my suit. I have one last trip to make.

* * *

An hour later, I'm in Paterson, NJ standing in the reception foyer of CombinedSecurities. I smile at the lobby attendant and ask to speak to William Crawford, the CEO. She scans me up and down and asks my name.

"Robert Brown from RangeMan."

She smiles and calls up to the executive suite. A few moments later, her smile falls and she glances at me nervously. Before she can open her mouth, I speak.

"He can speak to me now or Carlos Mañoso later. His choice."

She nods and conveys the message. She hangs up. "He'll see you now, sir. 10th floor."

I smile and thank her. Moments later, I'm looking at a phalanx of lawyers and the CEO in a classic power seating move. I'm amused. I hope he doesn't think I'm intimidated. He's tipped his hand by having this many people around him on a Sunday. I wonder if he was expecting me. Oh Liam . . . I should have cracked your skull.

"Bobby! How can we help you?"

I smile, take a seat and decline the water. I open my folio, place it in front of me, and relax into the seat.

"You can start first, Bill, by calling me Robert. Or Mr. Brown. I prefer Mr. Brown." I'm not smiling anymore, and he wipes that silly grin off his face. This is business, motherfucker. We are not friends. You are a competitor.

"I'm here to inform you personally that Liam Hannigan has resigned from RangeMan. We are well aware that he was passing trade secrets to you," he opens his mouth to respond, "and before you open your mouth to lie to me, I want you to consider the fact that RangeMan does not make allegations we can't back up."

I pull my phone from my pocket and play the recording. It's a conversation from two weeks ago at a local restaurant. Liam is describing the information in the file and Bill is giving him the check and promising more. Clear cut case.

The lawyers look antsy, and Bill has his blank face on.

"Of course, it's backed up with hours of surveillance, emails, pictures, you name it, we've got it. You can't term him a kite. It's clear you hired him for unethical purposes."

There are significant looks around the table now. I mean, it's lawyers, so they're discreet, but again, kinesiology. I pick up all facial tics. I'm looking at a **lot** of nervous men right now. Our lawyers gave me the correct buzzwords to use and they're working.

I'm waiting for the counter offer. Since I'm sitting here and I've made it clear they won't run from this charge, they don't have time to regroup. Crawford nods at one man, who nods.

"Mr. Brown, my client maintains that he had no knowledge of the actions of your employee—"

I've cued up the next recording.

Crawford: _"So, are you sure that you're going to be able to get a full customer list? Not just for your branch, but Trenton too?"_

Hannigan:_ "Trenton will cost you more. Much more. They're harder to break and the company CIO is based there. I won't be able to pull it off the computer and they're notorious for secrecy. I'll have to actually snoop there."_

Crawford: _"Well, it doesn't matter to CombinedSecurities how you do it. How much and how long?"_

Hannigan:_ "Let's say one month? And it'll cost $100,000."_

Crawford: _"One month is too long. I'll pay $100,000 if you can get it in two weeks. Otherwise, the usual $25,000."_

Hannigan: _"You don't know the reputation of our CIO. The man committed at least 20 murders and walked scot free. If he catches me, no one will ever find my body."_

_Silence. _

Crawford: _"That's your problem, not mine. We've paid you handsomely to sink contracts and get us information. I've told you what we want and how soon we want it. Just get it."_

I stop the recording. Kinesiology is a beautiful thing. Everyone is antsy. Crawford is red and his lawyers are scared. Bankruptcy is in the company's future and they know it.

"Let me make RangeMan's position very clear. We're filing suit tomorrow. The man who collected this evidence is the VP of Investigations at our Trenton branch. A former FBI agent who left the Bureau with at least 20 commendations and no demerits. The file is thick and our lawyers can't wait."

I smile and stand to leave.

"And no one can prove those 26 bodies were the work of our CIO. It's simply an allegation."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, there is a side story with the reactions of the men across the company. There's also another side story coming out. **


	44. You're Scaring Us

Conversations in _Italics_ understood to be in Spanish.

* * *

**Chapter 44: You're Scaring Us**

**Ram's POV**

Something is wrong.

I'm no genius. I don't claim to understand women and there's a lot about them that I want to remain a mystery, but something is wrong with our CO.

She's . . . not herself.

I'm back in the Bomber file, looking for threats, but I haven't found any. The men are discreetly looking for a new stalker. Hal and I are both worried and scared. We called Manny, told him to double time it back here for a day or two to assess her, use his instincts.

His assessment: She's angry.

Thanks, Manny. I mentally sent him the finger.

Steph's behavior this week has been abnormal. She spent the past week, since her return from NYC, in the gun range every day, twice a day. Every man here had one eye on his work, the other eye on the CO's progress in the range. We aren't sure what to make of it. We're proud (Finally!) but worried.

My assessment: Whatever pissed her off encouraged her to become deadly. Her shots are accurate, lethal, and very personal. If she doesn't stop shooting the paper man's balls, I'm calling in a psychiatrist. She forced me to assess her one morning. I told her I wanted to see her out in a paintballing exercise but if I had to clear her right now, she'd probably pass a small arms assessment. She nodded and asked me to order her a few holsters.

Holsters? A few? I'm wearing a cup. Who pissed her off? Back to the 'Bomber' file.

Woody and Binkie report that their shins are in serious pain. The CO is taking her hand to hand and self-defense training very seriously. The video of Steph sending Woody to the ground in a flip made the rounds all day. No one teased either man; instead, we congratulated them for taking the blows silently. Still, Woody and Binkie begged Hal for relief, so Hal has been on the mats with Steph practicing hand to hand. She can't take him down (and he refuses to body slam her to the ground) so she's getting better at coming up with sneaky combinations to use against an opponent. Hal limped back to his office today and iced his thighs. I took him a cup; neither of us commented on it.

Manny watched her in the range and in the gym and told us to chalk that up to whatever happened to Hector in Miami. No one will tell us what went down (I think Manny has a clue), but Hector left in perfect health and returned with gunshot bruises. I saw them; whoever shot him was a semi-pro and they meant business. Only Hector's vest and the fact that the other RangeMen were blocking the shooter from getting a perfect shot kept him alive. The angle tells me he was already falling when the shots hit. What little we can get out of Manny was that Hector's shooting had absolutely nothing to do with the CO.

Small relief. Something happened in either Miami or NYC and whatever it was, she's scaring the hell out of us.

Steph's been working from Apartment 1 for a week. She barely lets Hector out of her sight. It's weird. We all like Hector, but he's like the rest of the Leadership Core: Approach with caution and handle with care. I've always known and understood that Hector had a management role, but until we got the org chart, I never realized he was at an XO level. It's given us a new respect for Hector, a new reason to be a bit more deferential. He's earned his role at RangeMan.

In any case, we've found Hector's weaknesses: tears and bossy women. Every time Bombshell looks ready to cry, he huffs loudly and does as she asks. As a result, Hector's been on bed rest for an entire week, a record. He looks irritated by this and we're approaching with more care than usual, but every time he suggests getting out of bed, Zero says, "_OK. I'll let the CO know_." At this point, Hector should have glared holes through Zero, but Zero is unfazed. We're afraid of the CO and Hector equally at this moment; we'll let them fight it out.

Maria, on the other hand, approaches him like a general ready for war. He moans and groans loudly with her about everything. We stopped entering the apartment without ensuring he hears our knocks after yesterday morning's exchange.

* * *

"_Here, Hector, let me help. Stop being so prideful and stand still,"_ Maria said.

We could hear Hector grunt. "_I will not. I'm no woman. I am a man. Injured or not, I can still bathe__._"

"_Without falling over? Without pain or further injury? You're attempting to take a shower, not a bath. If you were taking a bath, then you wouldn't need help."_

"_Fine, I'll take a bath. Just leave_."Zero and I were turning red at the effort of not laughing. Hector sounded truly harassed. Maria sailed out of the bathroom with a grin on her face, winked, and walked out of the apartment. We could hear Hector muttering under his breath.

"_Nosy woman. I think she just wants to stare at my balls. It's Granny Mazur all over again, just no pinching." _Zero and I had tears running down our cheeks in the effort not to laugh. It's not often (ever) that you catch Hector at a disadvantage._ "Do this, Hector. Do that, Hector. Here, let me dress you, Hector. Sit still and let me dab this nasty cream on you, Hector. Take your pain pills, Hector."_ We heard a few grunts from the bathroom and looked at each other, wondering if we should knock on the door to help, when we heard, _"Just as I thought. Still attached and big as ever."_

Zero choked and we were caught. Hector opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, and glared.

"_Uh …CO is wondering if you need help. If you're OK. We thought we'd come and check before she came down."_

Hector glared at us, slammed the door in our faces and grunted. We could hear the bath running. We turned to leave, but not before we heard him mutter.

"_The first person that asks me if I need help wiping my ass is getting sliced__."_

* * *

Maria has been here for two weeks and it's been an eye opener. We never really thought about the housekeeper and her role beyond "This is Ella. Worship accordingly." Having Maria here has really shown us how good we have it. Maria started off almost timid and shocked by just about everything we do. It made all of us nervous; were **we** doing something wrong? Vince and Eddie took point with Maria, helping her understand what to expect from the men she works with. That was an important distinction we wanted to make with her, and I think she's starting to understand. She works **with** the men; she doesn't work **for** them.

Every man in Trenton was grateful when I talked Maria out of cooking her heavy 'Miami' cuisine. It was delicious (_albondigas?_ _papas rellenas_? Where have you been all my life?), but for the first time in our lives, we understood female complaints about not having enough bathrooms. Every man here was on the toilet. We couldn't take it. Where were the vegetables? Was everything fried? We didn't want to dictate to Maria what she should feed us, but our bodies couldn't take it. There is no way that cuisine is healthy, and we can't understand how the Miami crew manages to eat that without blowing up. They have to live in the gym, but it does explain why the Miami guys are bulkier than the rest of us. Every other office is full of lean, scary individuals with a few outliers (Hal, Cal, Binkie), but Miami is full of potential body builders.

Hal and Vince finally opened up to me about Ella's 'psy-op' and we've been debating appropriate "Welcome Home and Thank You!" gifts. If Ella is clearing the way for Steph to go to Miami and not have as many problems, we'll treat Maria like a queen so she understands what she needs to expect. I think we're making a difference. She seems relieved and surprised that the entire branch doesn't require, ask, or expect her to do their laundry. Ella doesn't; at most, she'll do a load if something is severely stained, but otherwise her laundry duties are limited to household needs and the Leadership Core. Now that the Leadership Core is no longer here, Hal, Manny, Bombshell, and I are the only people Ella does laundry for.

That was a shock. I've always done my own laundry and the idea of handing my Jockeys over to Ella was uncomfortable. When I told Ella this, back when we took over leadership in Trenton, she smiled and met with me, Manny, and Hal to discuss it.

"I've done the Leadership's laundry for years. I've seen everything."

Believable, but still. This is Ella. She's not a maid. Finally, she sat down with us and went through the RangeMan housekeepers' contract. As senior management, we could set the amounts of laundry we were comfortable with. If we just needed her to continue to iron and do spot removal she was fine with it, but if we were OK with her doing full loads, she was OK with doing it.

"You boys, and Stephanie, now work 10-12 hour days. Perhaps more. Laundry takes time, which is now a precious commodity. I consider this a part of the household duties of RangeMan. You are the only people with permanent living space here in the building. I already handle Stephanie's laundry and I will not be upset at handling yours. Just leave whatever needs to be laundered in your new laundry bags and I'll make sure it's done."

We all looked at each other. Each man was still uncomfortable with the idea. Ella smiled. "Of course, since the Leadership Core doesn't wear underwear, that usually just leaves the uniform and socks."

We blinked. TMI? I mean, we knew Ranger and Lester didn't, but all of them? I'm having problems imagining Bobby swinging in the breeze. Bobby strikes me as a fully dressed Southern gentleman with a large swipe of bad ass. Watching him decimate Liam last week cemented that for me.

I refuse to consider Tank's underwear habits.

We talked about it and decided to pilot full laundry service for two months. At the end of two months, you couldn't pay me to do my own laundry again. It's a new reason to love Maria. The woman is skilled at making whites whiter, colors brighter, and everything smells fresh.

I hope she like flowers.

* * *

**Hal's POV**

I'm not sure what to do. Sis (Bombshell is just too much) is not herself. Ram is concerned about the amount of time she's spending in the range. I'm happy that she's in the range; I'm concerned that she hasn't seemed happy since she returned from Miami and NYC. It's not like Steph to be angry for this long. She usually snaps out of whatever it is pretty quickly, so whatever this is it's serious. A reaction to Hector's shooting? Anger over what happened to Javi? Something else? Whatever it is, I need an answer.

I'm also concerned about my thighs. Women can kick pretty hard and she's aiming kinda high.

The trip to NYC must have been a good one. Javier is now more open with me and Danny on the phone about his branch and his problems. While in NYC, Sis called us about him.

"Hey guys!"

"Hey CO!" Danny said. "What do you need from Atlanta?"

"I need to talk to you and Hal for a moment."

"I'm here, Steph."

"OK, here's the situation." Sis laid out for us everything that had happened to Javier, how he was betrayed by his Core team and how Bobby apologized on behalf of Leadership Core for not helping him more. She said she was coming home that afternoon, but she would go back in two weeks, in conjunction with Lester, to back Javi up some more.

Danny and I were stunned.

I literally could not fathom not being able to rely on Ram and Manny. I'm annoyed enough that Manny isn't here. If I couldn't trust them . . . holy hell.

Javi could have anything he needed. I just wish he'd leveled with us sooner. Then again, how did he know who he could trust? It was a completely crap situation.

In any case, Steph wanted us to reach out to him, be his sounding board when he had problems. She confided that he liked speaking to Danny because Danny was quick to give him options and suggestions, and he liked speaking to me because I had the military mindset of how to carry things out. He wasn't a bad leader, she said. On the contrary, he was actually a damn good one, but he needed more confidence.

I completely understood. I Express Mailed Javi a copy of _The Art of War_, with the same quote on it that Tank had picked out for me. I told Danny and there was silence on the other end.

"Good choice. I sent him Machiavelli's _The Prince_."

"Cynical."

"Brilliant. The book has more nuances than people give it credit for, but at its soul is a discussion of how to be a good leader and how to inspire loyalty. '_It is best to be both feared and loved; however, if one cannot be both it is better to be feared than loved.' _It's what the Leadership Core practices."

I thought about that. True. We fear the Leadership Core, but no one hates them. We fear them, respect them, and would follow them to the ends of the earth because we know they won't allow any man to die on their watch, but love them? I feel a lot of things for Ranger, but I'm not sure love is among them. A healthy dose of fear, admiration and respect is what I feel for Ranger, Lester and Bobby. Same for Tank, with a tad of hero worship.

Danny sent me a quote from the book later, which I spent the day thinking about.

"_A prudent man should always follow in the path trodden by great men and imitate those who are most excellent, so that if he does not attain to their greatness, at any rate he will get some tinge of it."_

I see his point. I make a note to pick up the book and read it. If that's Danny's go-to book that informs his leadership in Atlanta, time for me to start reading.

* * *

I finally got a brain wave last night. I was still thinking about Danny's quote and asked myself, "What would Tank do?" and I knew exactly what he would do. I called Hector, told him my plan, and he approved it. He would be watching. I understood the context. I promised to keep to the itinerary.

This was going to be a delicate procedure. It might go wrong. I needed it to go right.

Now it's time to execute. I ask Maria for her help and she agrees to pack a picnic lunch. I'll pick it up later. I crack my Bible before approaching the Lion's Den.

"Steph?"

She looks up. I don't know how to classify her facial expression. Harassed? Overwhelmed? Annoyed? Dunno, but I decide that the less I speak, the better. I hold my hand out and she looks confused. She attempts to raise an eyebrow and I shake my head. Her jaw clenches, but she locks her computer and grabs her gun and jacket.

I take her hand (she's so tiny!) and we head to 4 to check on Hector. He's fine, pretending to catnap (hahahaha, Hector's afraid of crying women! Hector has a weakness!), so Steph taps his chest lightly.

"Hector?"

He cracks one eye open.

"I'm headed out with Hal."

He raises an eyebrow at me. I look at him and nod. He pulls out his iPad. Steph kisses his forehead.

"Stay in bed. I'll stick close to Hal."

He nods and we leave.

This is how I know something's wrong. No questions so far. I disable monitoring on the car. Hector's already transferred her tracking devices to his iPad and the guys can only track me.

"Disable the garage cameras."

She looks at me, confused, so I take a moment to show her which keys on her key fob control the cameras. I wait and Maria approaches with the goods.

"Enjoy," she says, smiling.

The odor of fresh donuts from Tasty Pastry lifts Sis's spirits. I assume this is going to be the usual ten minute torture, but I'm wrong. She eats her Boston Creams quietly.

I'm truly afraid. This **has** to work.

I pull up outside the bonds office and scan for a moment. Usual suspects so it's safe to move. We climb out and walk in.

"Steph!" Connie.

"Hey Girl!" Lula.

"Steph! Oh, I thought you couldn't have donuts?" Mary Lou. Great! I'm glad she made it.

"RangeMan Trenton bribe. I'm not sure what I'm being bribed for yet, but it's their way." She looks at me with a small smile, first one I've seen all week. Excellent. I wave with my phone and head out.

I finish the bonds run with John and Douglas and pick up some items from FedEx. I'm dreading the next stop, but it has to be done.

"Mrs. Plum?"

"Henry? How nice to see you."

I whimper mentally over what I have to say next. "I know that it's last minute and if you cannot accommodate it that's fine, but I wondered if you would mind if the Trenton Leadership accompanied Stephanie to dinner tonight?"

Mrs. Plum blinks then smiles a huge smile at me. "Henry, I can always accommodate RangeMen. Dinner is at 6PM sharp."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll have Stephanie here in plenty of time."

No Granny Mazur to pinch my bum. Thank you, Jesus. I'll ride a pew on Sunday. Promise.

* * *

I stop at the florist. I have no idea what to get and Danny was no help here. His standard "I'm sorry I fucked up" floral gift is red roses, but he said that would be inappropriate. I call Candy.

"I'm looking for a gift for my boss. Floral."

Candy and I have been seeing each other ever since my party. We're comfortable with each other and we have fun whenever we're together. My soldier loves her, although it's not just about the sex (awesome though it is). The rest of me agrees more and more.

"What are you trying to say?"

"You're scaring us shitless. Please act like yourself again."

She laughs. "OK...what's she doing different?"

"She's been, we don't know, sad, angry, upset, unhappy. You name it, she's not the same happy-go-lucky Steph. The men have suggested a hug line; that's how bad it is."

"Azaleas."

She knows we try to do flowers with meanings, but when I think of azaleas, they're in the ground. "Why?"

"The floral meaning is 'Take care of yourself'."

That sounds good. The florist's assistant is eyeing me with interest. I guess the old saying is true: the moment you have someone, everyone's interested.

"You can also try gladiolus, mums, or hyacinth. Yellow tulips, too. If you don't care about meaning and just want something pretty, go with a gardenia, tulips of any color, lilies but not white ones, ooooh orchids . . . "

I'm writing these down. Never know when I might need them again. The way she says orchids makes my mind up.

"Thanks. I didn't know what to choose."

"No problem. You and your soldier coming my way this weekend?"

I smile. I know I'm red. "You bet. I need to ride a pew on Sunday."

Silence. The biggest issue between us. "OK. It's been a while."

"I don't ask that you do anything except sit next to me. It's important to me."

"OK. I need extra sex for this."

I smile. "I can manage that. Bye."

"Bye."

The assistant smiles at me. "Can I make a suggestion?" I nod. "Camellias. It can mean 'Excellence", 'Good Luck', and 'Admiration'."

I smile and her smile gets bigger. "I'll keep that in mind. Can you do a bouquet of orchids and azaleas?"

"Sure. It'll take an hour." I nod and pay for the bouquet, then let her know someone else will pick it up. She slips me her number.

Jeez. Where were these women before? This is the eighth number I've gotten since my promotion. Feast or famine and I guess I'm in feast mode.

* * *

I swing back by the building for the picnic basket then pick Sis up from the bonds shop. I like this nickname better. My little sister. I always wanted one and I'm choosing to ignore that Steph is actually three years older than me. I hated being the youngest.

She looks happier. Thank God.

"What did you do?"

She looks surprised I asked. "Nothing. Sat around, caught up on gossip. Lula leaves in an hour."

I nod. "Fully informed?"

"Yup. What are you up to, Hal?"

"Light day. I like to get out the office whenever I can. Thought you might need a day out." The last two sentences are true. It's my normal, crushing workload day, but Junior has my back. Thankfully, Danny and Javi understand and I've told Junior to call them or Ram for anything he doesn't understand. I can't wait to see what Sis does to Boston. I'm getting nervous about Mark's newfound willingness to work with her.

"OK, so where are we headed next? Mall?" Ah, closer to normal. I look at her until she giggles. Success! "What will it take to get RangeMen into a mall voluntarily?"

"Presidential order."

Sis blinks and laughs. I've missed that sound, and she laughs for a good long time. Great. I pull up outside her old apartment. She blinks and looks around.

"Are we picking up my grandma?" She's smiling.

"Nope. Having lunch." I verified the old lady is at the Clip N Curl gossiping. One of the new RangeMen has been given the task of surveillance. We've told him we want to see how good he is at it, especially scoping a public place. Truth: Newbies get the worst jobs until they prove themselves. "Still have your key?"

She nods and looks at me in confused wonder. Yay! We head up in the elevator and enter.

Edna Mazur's decorating scheme is classic old lady with a touch of BDSM and stoner chic. Interesting use of bongs as lamps. Pot poster on the wall. I'll have to ensure Sis doesn't eat any brownies here. Is that . . . no, I refuse to think I'm looking at a collection of dildos. I'm innocent. Sex stops after 65 as far as I'm concerned. Otherwise, I might have to wonder what my parents . . . YUCK! Even Steph looks disturbed. She looks at me. "We won't discuss this."

I nod. "Who would believe us?" We look at each other and laugh. I lift the picnic basket. "It's not Pino's, but Maria's not bad."

Steph's smile gets a little shaky and I pass her my handkerchief. I spread the blanket from the couch on the floor and Steph dives into the basket. Meatball subs, pickles, chips, and two beers each.

Let her eat her favorite foods and get away from (almost) all of us for a day. It was all I could think of. It's what I think Tank would do.

* * *

**Hector's POV**

Finally! First time in a week _Angelita_ hasn't complained about me leaving the bed and it's to attend a Plum Family Dinner. Damn!

I let Ranger know about _Angelita's_ state of mind since Miami. He's concerned about her and I tell him we're keeping a close eye on her.

_"Good, but let Ella know. This is an Ella situation."_

_"Something we've done?"_

_"No. Me. Inadvertent."_

_"Can we help?"_

_"No. She'll have to work through it. Ella will know what to do. She's been like this the entire week?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"OK, there's time."_

I dread asking, but she's my partner. I need to know. _"Is it . . . a feminine thing?"_

Thankfully, Ranger got it. _"No. It's emotional."_

I'm tempted to classify that as a 'feminine thing' but I'll hold off. Thankfully, I supplied him with so much intel from Miami, and Manny's been passing so much stuff since, that he won't need me back in the field until after my shoulder heals.

I tell him about Hal's plans.

"_Channeling Tank again?"_ he says, amused.

_"Tank's flattered, believe me. He's looking for another book to send him to show his pride."_

_"Interesting. I'm beginning to wonder if we need to do that with all the XOs. I've had some time to think about what happened to Javi. We never showed him any positive reinforcement. Hell, we never show any of them positive reinforcement. They know not to fuck up, but beyond that their only reinforcement is their bonus check."_

_"It's a good idea. Hal sent Javier the one Tank gave him. I think Danny sent something called __**The Prince**__."_

Ranger whistles. _"Good choice. Excellent book. You'd love it._" I make a note of the name. I think I'll read it too.

_"What will you do for the CO?"_ Silence. _Sigh_. He still has not thought about what life with his 'Babe' will be like beyond winning the prize.

_"Our relationship is up to her. I need to see that she understands what she's taking on__._"

Two way street, _hermano_. She knows now what she's getting. Do you? Have you thought about it?

* * *

Ranger tells me the news that I lived hit Miami like a lightning storm. Just as we expected, I'm legend. _Sigh_. Just means the target on my back is bigger now. I need to get back out there and be seen being the bad ass. Nikki tells me that _Reyes_ have been hanging around her and Hector Manuel and eventually one came to her apartment and let her know that they're watching out for her. Piman sent them.

I asked Ranger to verify and he confirmed that Piman has taken Rey's old territory in Atlanta. News of Rey's defection is out and the anger is high. Piman's there consolidating his holdings now, and he's put out the word that Nikki and Hector Manuel are under his protection and not to be fucked with. Interesting. I've met Piman a handful of times and he's watching out for my son? Ranger tells me that he reinforced with Piman that Hector Manuel is to me like Julie is to him. There's no question that my son will have protection now.

I call Nikki and ask her about the possibility of moving to a gated apartment complex, if not a gated community. The _Reyes_ showing up on her doorstep frightened her enough to consider it, so I call Danny and ask him if he would help her find a nice safe home in Atlanta. His wife knows a realtor and they're on it. He asks me if I've considered asking Nikki to apply at RangeMan. I have but she turned me down flat. Doesn't like the idea of nepotism and wants to prove her degree and skills apart from me. _Grrr_. She put my son in the new daycare and made it clear that only those on his approved list can pick him up.

Danny told me that a _Reyes_ showed up at RangeMan Atlanta to talk to him. Their discussion was to inform him, Danny, that _Reyes_ under Piman are told that any intel applicable to **the **RangeMan is to be passed to him immediately. They want to establish a connection, a point person with the Atlanta branch. Danny didn't know what to do with that information. I told him to be the point person and arrange to talk to Pedro in Miami about procedures. Piman and Ranger go way back and if Piman is looking to pass information, he should trust what he's told.

In any case, I'm flat on my back in the bed and still working the streets. I call old contacts and pass the info to Ranger. Almost four months into his op and he's pulled eight dirty agents off the streets and has another nine under surveillance. He says The Cop is his best agent. He says this grudgingly and I can tell the subtext is 'I hate I have to respect this bastard for being good at his job'.

I'm glad I get to take a break tonight and get out the building. I'm starting to understand _Angelita's_ irritation with being in the building all the time. My first lungful of fresh Trenton air makes me cough and makes my shoulder hurt. _Angelita_ immediately looks over in concern and I glare at her until she gets the idea that mothering me in public is not OK. I'll allow her to do it in that apartment (if I have no other choice), but in public, I'm still the baddest bad ass of this partnership. Don't make me look like a punk.

We travel to her parents' home and her mother welcomes us warmly. She's happy to see _Angelita_ and immediately begins filling her in on family gossip. Mr. Plum is also happy to see us and immediately begins chatting in Italian with Zero. Hal, Ram, and Junior are quiet but happy. _Angelita _is more animated now than she has been all week. Ram and Junior slap Hal's back; his plan worked.

No Granny Mazur at dinner is wonderful. Mrs. Plum starts asking _Angelita_ about her skills again and Ram confirms that if he had to test her today, she'd pass a small arms assessment. Mrs. Plum is thrilled, as is Mr. Plum, and Mrs. Plum present her daughter with an extra large piece of Pineapple Upside-Down cake.

We travel back to RangeMan and _Angelita_ leans on me in the car, a happy smile on her face. Every man in the car has a small smile on his face and Hal will be the hero of our office. Our _Angelita_ is back.

Ella needs to come home. Whatever this problem is, it cannot happen again.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

After the best day I've had in over a week, I get a text right before bed that makes it perfect.

"Proud of you, Babe."

* * *

**A/N: Two side stories! One is the bonus chapter released earlier. The other is the next shot in the Housekeepers' War!**


	45. New York, New York

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who left a review for last week's stories! I know I'm behind responding, but I will respond to each one.**

**Also, there's a link to a set of pictures for Lester's NYC apartment on my profile.**

* * *

**Chapter 45: New York, New York**

**Steph's POV—Sunday Morning**

I spent the last two weeks in Trenton preparing for the NYC trip. I've reviewed Javier's financials and Manny and Diego's ideas for his pipeline, and I'm ready to help Javier back up on his feet. Diego reports that in the past week they've been able to move with some of their ideas, especially in business investigations, so the demand is there. He also reported that in the past month they've been able to pull back contracts that were lost, so he's hoping the bleeding is contained to being thwarted in bids, not a loss of reputation.

Lester was pleased to hear that and said he would arrive on Tuesday to help get things sorted out. The lawyers on retainer filed suit against CombinedSecurities and, given that they can't find Liam, they want to talk about a settlement. Lester smells blood and his number starts in the nine figures. After all, the CEO is looking at major jail time.

"Pay or play," he keeps saying. I asked him to explain during our last call and he snorted. "The bastards will pay or we're headed to court. If they're willing to deal, what little bits Bobby played must've scared them shitless."

I shrugged. My job is to focus on Javier and the branch. I called Ryan and ordered him to fly up to NYC for week one. He's the company accountant and we'll need his help to pull the branch back from the brink.

Hector refused, point blank, to allow me to go back to NYC without him. It was our first major fight that didn't involve a pillowcase.

"I'm going."

"No, you're not."

"I'm going and you're not stopping me."

"I can order you to stay." I could have, but I didn't want to. That would make our relationship awkward. Hector doesn't really report to me because we're partners, but I'm still the CO. He still has to uphold my authority.

Hector said nothing, just raised an eyebrow. I raised one back on him and watched him smirk. Damn. Still haven't managed it.

"You have gunshot bruises. You're still walking stiffly. I scheduled massages for you starting next week." I blew out a breath and sat back. "I want you better, Hector," I said softly. "I need you to be OK. After all, I can't really see you letting me go back to Miami alone, can you?"

His mouth set in a firm line. Got him. If given a choice between having my back in Miami and having it in NYC, he'll travel back to Miami any day.

"This isn't over."

"Yes it is. You need to get better. I need you to be better, for me. I don't want to leave you, but I want you to get the best possible care. You're staying."

Hector glared at me and walked out. I flopped back in the chair. My partner is more stubborn than I am. I sensed the fight was not over.

Hector was almost impossible to be around this past week. He cornered Sarah and ordered her to start physical therapy for his shoulder. He ambushed Zero and got more pain pills. He slept more than four hours a night. He relaxed in the whirlpool. He pushed himself to get better, as if he could do it through force of will alone. Maria was the only person who could handle him and even she rolled her eyes a few times.

Finally, he walked into my office on Friday.

"I'm going."

I flopped back in the chair. "We had this argument. You're not going."

"I asked Lucia to find me a masseuse. I went with Zero today to get the hematomas checked with ultrasound. They're fine, so I can have massages. Sarah is going with us, so she can continue the physical therapy. Lester's apartment has a Jacuzzi, so you can share."

He sat in the chair, smug. He'd found a way around every restriction.

"I drive."

His mouth thinned. "Fine. You're determined?" I nod. "Then you have to be me. Two guns. Five knives. One gun and two knives on your person at all times. You have to remain aware of your surroundings. You have to be prepared to shoot to kill."

I groan. Damn. I'm Hector's bodyguard. He's getting the raw end of this deal.

* * *

We left for the NYC office at 8:00 this morning. Hector wanted to leave earlier, but I wasn't waking up at the butt crack of dawn for it. We would be there before noon and that's all I cared about.

Sarah arrived bouncy and happy. "You know, this might sound completely selfish, but I'm glad I took you on as a client."

I actually like her now, so I agreed, but I was curious. "Why?"

She smiled. "I'd never been to Atlanta before that trip. I've never been to New York. Well, not since middle school. Everywhere else in the country, but not NYC. Honestly, I hope I'm still around for Boston and Miami." She grinned. "Especially Miami."

I laughed. "Well, we're in Brooklyn this time. Don't know how exciting that will be."

"You kidding me? Brooklyn is turning into the 'cool' part of NYC, outside Manhattan. And Prospect Heights is becoming another 'hipster' central."

Hal and Ram, who had been packing the SUV during this conversation, walked over, both hiding smiles.

"SUV is packed," Hal said. "Got directions?"

I nodded.

Ram smiled. "I packed a map, GPS is juiced, she's gassed, and Hector's …" they looked at each other, "Hector's Hector."

I nodded. Translation: He's not happy he's not driving, he's irritated at being treated like an invalid, and good luck to you. Don't forget, he's still deadly.

Hector arrived in the garage, Maria walking behind him quietly. Sarah, Ram, and Hal all slammed their military-issue blank face into place while I bit my lip. Hector had his 'psycho' blank face on. I caught Maria's eyes and closed my eyes. She was trying not to laugh.

"_Are we ready to go?"_ Hector asked, looking annoyed. I looked at Ram for a translation, although I understood the sentence.

"Yup. Everything's packed. Let's head out."

Hal and Ram packed Hector's bags (he scowled) and Sarah hopped in the back seat. Hector stood on the passenger side glaring at his seat. I looked at him from the driver's seat. I wanted to ask if he needed help, but I recognized that look. Hector was glaring at the passenger seat as if it was a personal enemy.

Finally, he climbed in and buckled up. Thankfully, it was his left shoulder that was injured in Miami, so the seatbelt wasn't going to hurt. Another argument against him driving: pain from the seatbelt.

I took off, but within minutes, the GPS was driving me crazy. I know how to get to NYC. I just needed instructions on how to get to Prospect Heights.

"_No_."

I glared at him. I wanted to turn it off, but I couldn't say that with Sarah in the car. This sucks.

* * *

Over the next 1.5 hours, the GPS drives me crazy. I consider dropping it out the window on the Turnpike, on the bridge over Newark Bay and on the bridge over the Hudson River. I stop hating it once I get to Manhattan and actually need the help. Finally, we hit Brooklyn and the RangeMan NYC offices.

The RangeMan NYC office is a curious building. It was created by taking two 6-story buildings and demolishing the interior walls, so floors have an 'A' or 'B' designation to state where offices are. The monitoring floor at any RangeMan office is always on the 5th floor, but here it's 5A and Client Services and Bonds Enforcement works from 5B. Lester's apartment is on 6A and the other apartments, for guests, are on 6B. I like the setup but I don't like that the men are directly under me. Lester did tell me that he had his apartment soundproofed the moment he took possession.

I choose to believe he did that to dampen the noise from 5.

The official entrance for clients in on the 'A' side and the RangeMan entrance, including access to the garage, is on the 'B' side. I asked how they managed to dampen the noise from the garage, gun range and gym, and Les said it was more industrial-strength soundproofing.

We arrive in the garage and are met by Javier, Manny, and Diego, all smiles. They immediately stop smiling once we park and it becomes clear to them that the CIO is not a happy man.

"You drove?" Manny whispers. Hector has his computer case. I won that argument. It was either his suitcase or his computer bags, not both.

"Yeah."

"He look like that the entire way?"

"Yeah."

Manny shakes with silent laughter. "You're a brave woman, Wifey."

I laugh quietly. Diego appears at the trunk. "Yo! He's glaring. Better get a move on," he whispers.

Javier grabs my bags, Manny gets Hector's and Diego grabs Sarah's, and we head to the elevator. Javier smiles.

"Well, on behalf of the NYC RangeMen, welcome back to RangeMan NYC, CO. Good to see you again."

I smile. "Thanks, Javier. I'm beat. I can't wait to take a shower."

He nods. "I have a list of suggested activities in the apartment. Danny told me to make sure I had things for you to do in the downtime, so you didn't get bored."

Everyone hides a smile. We get off the elevator and Manny and Diego escort Hector and Sarah to their apartments while Javier fobs me back into Lester's. I was surprised when I saw Lester's apartment two weeks ago. I'm not saying I expected jungle prints or a red velvet couch. Actually, I didn't know what to expect from Lester's apartment.

What I got was minimalist. Lester's NYC apartment is not a place I would associate with him and, talking to him last week, he admitted it was surprising to everyone who knew him except Ranger.

"I like open space. Nothing frustrates me more than the feeling of being pinned in. Ranger gets that. You've seen his apartments. If you really look carefully, the only real differences are finishes and color schemes."

Now that I'm looking at the apartment a second time, I see that Les is right. His apartment is decorated in shades of blue and grey and it can take on a cold feeling in the morning, but now that it's summer, the apartment has a refreshing feel to it, as if you can feel cooler and cleaner just stepping in. I wonder what kind of feeling this apartment gives off in winter. If this apartment was in Trenton, it would feel depressing in winter.

Lucia, the NYC Housekeeper, meets us in the apartment. "Stephanie, it's good to have you back." I like Lucia. I crashed on the couch after Liam's "exit interview" and awoke to find myself covered with a blanket and Lucia in the kitchen warming a meal for me. It was delicious, somewhere between an 'Ella' meal and a 'Maria' meal in fat and calories. Plus, she slipped me some dessert. Ram and Bobby pretended not to notice.

Lucia takes my bags and I sit on Lester's couch and close my eyes. "Javier, stay for a moment." Javier returns to the couch. I roll my head to loosen up and point to my computer bag. He passes it over and I pull my legal pad.

"OK, before the others join us, tell me how's it been going in the past two weeks."

He smiles and sits back. "I wish I could convince Diego to stay. He's brilliant. He's pulling back contracts left and right, and we're already at a point where I could start hiring to rebuild the branch. I mean, when I called you five weeks ago, I had no idea that the right man could get this branch turned around so fast."

I smile. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. So, Shane's definitely not coming back. Ever.

"What's he like to work with?"

Javi's smile dims. He thinks for a moment. "Well, he's blunt. He has absolutely no concept of sugar coating anything. It works here in New York but," he shrugs, "sometimes it's hard to be on the other side of his tongue. Why?"

Hmm …is that XO behavior? I'll need to ask Hal and Danny. "I know nothing about him and since I won't see him in action in Miami, this is my only time to really learn anything about him. Is his blunt tone a problem for you? Is it disrespectful?"

Javier smiles. "Is it disrespectful? No. I think that he really doesn't have a filter. He says exactly what he means, no faking, no bullshit. I'm finding I appreciate it. I always know exactly where I stand with him."

"So, you do feel he respects you as a leader and as the XO here?"

Javi nods. "Yes." He blows out a breath. "The day he and Manny leveled with me about the branch, he told me that he rarely had respect for men like me because I'd allowed myself to be bullied. That was probably the most painful but honest thing I've heard in years." I nod. "I didn't like it, but I respected him just for saying it. I accepted that he was right. I had already copped to it." He laughs a little. "It's the difference between him and Manny. Both will tell me the same thing, but Manny cushions the blow a bit more. Diego assumes you're man enough to take it. It's toughened me up, believe me."

I hold my hand up to think about this. I don't like it because it does sound disrespectful, but . . . it sounds as if Diego is Javier's Hector at the moment. Diego is willing to speak hard truth to him. Diego is trying to make Javi stronger. Just as I know Hector will tell me things that I don't like very bluntly, I accept he does it because he loves me and I've realized that he is the **only** person in my life who does it consistently. I take what Hector says seriously because Hector says what he means and he only wants the best for me. I need to see Diego myself, just to see if I'm calling this right, but I can accept it for the moment. I smile at Javi to continue.

"The positive is he's honest, hardworking, and loyal. He's quick to enforce order and ensure everyone is on task. I've seen a complete change in the men here. Between him, Manny, and the guys on loan, they've got the men accepting the idea that standards are serious and not to be ignored."

I nod. "The men do know you're in authority here, right?"

He smiles. "Oh yeah. He's quick to defer to me. I didn't mean to imply that he's acting like he runs the show. He doesn't do that, but he's quick to ensure that the men respect the leadership. He defers to me in public and private. It's a nice change."

Hmm . . . sounds like Diego might be XO material. We'll see. "Wonderful! By the way, how did the search for a liaison go?"

Javier kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable. Lucia leaves after bringing us glasses of water and a pitcher.

"I ended it early. I didn't think any of them were right for the job once they actually started trying to fill it, and Adam confided that he didn't think any of them were right either. I asked Manny to search the company for a liaison for me and I think I'm more comfortable with that. I want people around me that are fresh to the branch, who owe their allegiance to me and me alone."

I nod. Smart move. "What else? The men OK?"

"Well, the attitude of the men has changed. I can feel the difference."

I nod. I'm betting Bobby's speech did a lot of good. "Do you feel they respect you more?"

"I know they do. It's a complete 180. Mack, the head of Client Services, came to speak to me. Told me that he apologizes for not working with me more, for not supporting me like he should have." Javier looks at his fingers. "None of them realized what it meant to me to be in charge of their livelihoods, of their opportunity to thrive here at RangeMan. With Liam and Shane out the way, they actually see me for who **I** am and their opinions are starting to turn around. I'm not saying that everyone is all gung-ho for me now, but I don't feel like they're rolling their eyes the moment I turn my back."

I nod. I know that feeling. It's exactly how I feel every time Mark participates in an XO call now.

"What are you doing to help them see you as the leader?"

Javier is quiet for a while. I refill the water and sit down. I need to know. I need to see if what he is doing will work for me.

"Well, Manny told me, point blank, to get a specialty on the mats. I was a decent boxer as a kid, but I fell out of it. So, I went and signed up for some refresher lessons. I'm getting better, back to what I used to be. I also signed up for some jujitsu lessons. Knowing that both Manny and Diego had skills in two disciplines helped me realize that I needed to step it up." He smiled. "I was thinking of things in terms of PIPs and HR talks and Manny said to trash that. He's right. If I'd been able to take Liam on the mats, I could have put an end to that 'dumbass' situation long ago."

Nope. That won't work. Damn. I guess Hector is going to be my physical threat for a little while longer.

"It helps that Manny and Diego won't tolerate disrespect of me either. They're quick to take the men to the mats for insubordination. So I've been taking men to the mats more and more, which is good for me and them. Diego told me that the men were confused about who was the leader here. They're holding me up, but they'll leave at some point and I have to make sure the men are never confused again."

I nod. Yeah, that's pretty much Hector's role. I need to think on this more. I still look like a weak leader. Javier is getting stronger. I need to come up with something.

"I also spent time in each department here, riding along with the men, doing their job. It helped me see what they go through and it gave them an opportunity to talk to me one on one. I didn't really do it before because I was so caught up in trying to keep the branch afloat but I've learned that, in some cases, the info on the ground is different from the reports. Not huge things, just nuances that don't translate well on paper. Having leadership I can trust means I'm not as isolated. I can trust them to hold the office while I look at the ground, so to speak. In any case, I've had a chance to write down things I noticed and think about some ideas, but I haven't made any decisions yet."

Interesting. "Like what?"

Javier fidgets for a moment. "Well, the one thing I keep reminding Manny and Diego is that NYC is a different beast. What works in other parts of the country may not necessarily work here. So, our traditional portfolio of residential and commercial monitoring is great, but I'm thinking about the usefulness of Bonds Enforcement."

I frown. That's a money maker all over the company. Javier notices my face and smiles.

"Yeah, you're wondering why I might want to drop it." I nod. "The expenditures outweigh the costs at the moment. It may be because I need more men or it may be that we're taking too long to bring them back into the system. Anyway, we used to be fourth in the company in captures. We're last now, thanks to Danny." He grins. "I need another skip tracing workshop here if we keep it. Thanks to you, we've gotten better but still, there's room for improvement."

I groan. Zip is gonna kill me. Javier laughs.

"I'd like to ramp up 'redecorating work' to offset it. I'm getting calls from as far away as Nassau County for that and it's growing. NYC's crackdown on panhandlers and drug addicts means these people have nowhere to go, so they're taking over abandoned property. I've had a 500% increase in those requests."

Wow. That's huge. "How long do you think it will last?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. I mean, the crackdown started under Giuliani, and has just exploded since the financial crisis. It's insane. I couldn't handle it before because I didn't have enough men, but in the last four weeks I've been able to make major bank from that using the men I was loaned."

Hmm . . . OK, so just because it works one place doesn't mean it has to be a core offering everywhere. I need to think about that.

"OK, so what's your plan now?"

Javi sits back and grimaces. "Well, I have a lot of options thanks to Diego and Manny, and I need to make some decisions. I'm weighing each option and looking at alternatives. I'm really trying to get more information."

I nod. I know that feeling. There's a knock on the door and Javi answers. Hector, Diego, and Manny walk in, looking confused.

"We were looking for you two on 5A," Diego says, smiling.

"Been here the entire time. What's up?" I ask.

"_Cena_," (dinner) Hector says, rubbing his belly. I smile. I know that word.

"_Necesito una ducha_," (I need a shower) I reply, miming a shower. Hector rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and shoos me to the bathroom. I can hear the conversation behind me.

"_The CO is learning Spanish?"_ Manny asks.

"_We're partners. She can't _remeda_ for the rest of her life. Basic stuff. Hungry, sleepy, bathroom, that man has a gun,_" the men laugh, "_things that will make our partnership easier. She is_ luchando para _learn it_."

This isn't correct. Hector says I'm doing really well but he wants to keep the expectations low until after Miami. He doesn't want Miami to guess at my proficiency. Much easier to eavesdrop that way. What's _remeda_? Mime? I need to look that up. That Spanish-English dictionary was a great investment.

"_I expect that the CO's language lessons will not travel beyond this room_." I can hear the threat in Hector's voice and I smile.

Even with a broken shoulder, Hector is still scary.

* * *

Brooklyn is a foodie paradise and this poses a problem for the guys. I shouldn't be eating this stuff, but . . . I mean, who goes to NYC, to **Brooklyn** and doesn't get a slice? Hector is biting his lip not to laugh by the fourth one, and Javier and Diego are looking at me in shock. Manny is shifting. Sarah is matching me slice for slice.

"Er . . . CO? Steph?" Manny asks. I glare.

"Don't even suggest it. Do you know how long it's been since I had **anything** from Pino's? A slice in NYC just barely tops them, and I'm eating pizza till I pop. Sarah can make me pay for it tomorrow." I take another bite and moan. She grins.

"You better believe it, Plum. You're looking at serious cardio right there."

Oh well. I shrug. "There's something in the water they use to make the crust," I mutter. "It just can't be beat."

Hector laughs, tears running down his face. Manny sits back and bites his lip.

"_Let her have her fun today. It's been months since she's had a pizza. Don't ruin it for her,_" Hector says. Javier translates and I nod.

"Right. Don't ruin this for me."

Hector proceeds to do just that by pointing at the salad I was steadfastly ignoring. He glares until I eat the entire bowl. Just for that, I have another slice, but I have to call it quits. The useless salad took up valuable real estate in my stomach. Diego and Javier look at each other and start chuckling, then laughing. The tears are running down their faces, and Sarah and I are sitting back with happy smiles.

"What?" Sarah asks.

Diego wipes his eyes. "We heard the CO was good to put away a plate or two, but damn! I'm so used to watching Ranger deliberate a salad I forgot what it was like to watch a CO eat. Watching Steph reminds you to enjoy the damn meal." He smiles at me and I'm reminded to check the RangeMan contract for the physical attributes clause. "Hell, I'm so used to watching Miami women pretend they're not hungry I forgot what it was like to watch a woman eat."

Javier wipes his eyes. "NYC women, man. If they're in Manhattan, they've never seen a lettuce leaf they haven't wished was lower in fat and calories." He shakes his head. "It's why I don't date Manhattan chicks. If I'm paying for the meal, you're eating it, dammit. Gimme a Bronx sista who likes her _yucca frites_ and _tostones_ any day."

I grin. "Damn skippy. What's that? Sounds good, like dinner."

Everyone at the table looks at each other and laughs.

* * *

_Remeda_: Mime

_Luchando para_: struggling to

Side Story up tomorrow. Title: **Yes, I MEANT It.**


	46. I NEED More Infomation

**A/N: This has nothing to do with the chapter but is a general warning to everyone and applies to all chapters. Please remain mindful of what the ****characters**** know! You, the readers, know everything. You have the global view. The characters don't.**

* * *

**Chapter 46: I NEED More Information**

**Javier's POV**

I'm stuck. I need to make a decision now, but I can't. I don't have nearly enough information. Worse, my boss is looking at me with barely concealed irritation. Her eyes drop to my pen and I stop tapping. I'm sorry, Steph, but I can't do it. I just can't make snap decisions like that. What if it goes wrong? How do I justify this if it ends up blowing up in my face? This branch has had enough problems. I don't want to make a wrong decision that puts it back on the ropes again.

We're in my office, trying to determine the best use of the money Steph's advanced me to get this branch back up on its feet. It's me, Steph, Manny, Diego and Adam, and we've been discussing this for the past 2.5 hours. I've been amused by Steph's obvious hatred of the furniture in here. It's Les's aesthetic. Low-slung black leather chairs with no arms and a metal frame. I offered her my chair and she turned it down. That was two hours ago and she's eyeing my nice comfy office chair now. I offer it again and she shakes her head, jaw clenched.

"Let's review the facts," Manny says. "We have $5 million we can play with and three options. First would be to invest in the business investigations unit at a greater level, hire more techies and solicit more business. We're already receiving quite a few inquiries on this service and it looks poised to grow further."

This is true and it's a real money maker. Plus, it simply requires the men to take their assignments and work at will. Positive: I don't need more office space. This is a job the men can do from home. Negative: I need way more men for this.

_Tap. Tap. Tap_. Diego is glaring at me. I still my pen. He told me to get rid of the nervous tics. My blank face is excellent but the pen tapping (and the foot tapping) drives him **insane**. Plus, it's another weakness. Easy for him to say. I think the blank face is his standard. Tapping my pen is the quickest way to get his attention sometimes.

"Second. We can grow the personal investigative services. The demand for this is sky high and it is a proven money maker in Trenton. We have more work there than we can keep up with. If the growth in NYC mirrors Trenton at all, this could be positive for the branch."

Again, true. However, NYC is not Trenton, so I can't base this decision on what's going on there. NYC is a different beast. We are an elite security firm, not _Remington Steele_. Plus, there are a million wannabe and retired detectives in this city. It's a tight market and we would need to make sure that our clients come to us. Finally, requires far more men than I currently have.

Manny's staring at my baseball again. That signed baseball from Alex Rodriguez is one of my most prized possessions and, as a Yankees fan, I know he's desperate to nick it. I'm amused. Dude, I have eight burglars in this office and they haven't managed it yet. Good luck.

"Third. We can move into the security and threat assessments in greater force. This is a good move because we can leverage our assessments to sell more monitoring contracts, which don't require as much work. However, it will require a sales team who knows what to look for. This is where we can really leverage some of our more 'interestingly backgrounded' employees."

Everyone smiles. Manny's reference: my burglars. They would be naturals at this. However, every single one of those guys is too smooth. Clients would definitely be wary of them. Plus, I can't see spending $5 million on that effort alone. It's overkill.

"Any other options?" I ask.

The entire group looks dumbfounded. Diego blinks, then looks at his notes.

"Nope. Well, not at the moment. I'm sure I can think of some other stuff if I spend some time at it, but . . ." He trails off, looking at Manny. Everyone has put their blank face into place and is staring at me.

I'm looking at the notes on my options. There's simply not enough information here, and I'm being asked to bet on this branch's future. I'm not a gambler. I don't need a sure thing, but I need a 'not likely to end on the mats' thing. An option I can live with. I've said it time and time again: I'm not creative and I don't like making a decision without sound, strategic information. What does the ground for these options really look like? I need more information, some sound market research. I need to be able to justify this to Lester when—not if, but when—he asks. Finally, I look up at Steph, who is looking at me in confusion.

Steph looks at everyone. "Everyone, give me 15 with Javier." Everyone nods and leaves the room. Steph looks at me. I can feel the blow to my pride coming, but I'm surprised by her again.

"Tell me your thought process, Javier. Help me understand why you're holding off on making a decision." Her voice is soft and does not contain any censure.

I blink. Understanding. That's new.

"Well, I like option one. It's a new service, something unique, and it's not a crowded field. Only problem is it requires more men than I have. Plus, is it going to continue to grow? We don't have any research, no market material to back up this assumption right now."

Steph looks thoughtful now. She abandons the chair for my couch and grins. It's soft and comfy. It's also hard to escape once you've been sitting for a while. Les set this entire office up as a psychological exercise and I'm always amused watching people fall into the traps.

"I like option 2 because it's in line with our core offerings. However, there are a million guys in NYC who can do that. It's a default career for a lot of NYC officers once they retire, so it's actually a pretty crowded field. I don't want to invest in this without understanding what that field really looks like. Plus, as I keep telling Manny and Diego, NYC is not Miami or Trenton. No matter what, some fields are going to be crowded and this is one of the most crowded."

Steph nods and motions for me to continue.

"I like option 3 most, but I can't see spending $5 million on it. That's overkill investment, and I want to use the money wisely and as fully as possible. I think I can train some of my men to handle this option and we can get out there in force on this, but I'd actually like to have a few women on this one also. I hear that was one of the things you helped the Trenton men with, and a woman's opinion can help close the deal." I smile. She's struggling to escape the couch. I'm biting my lip not to laugh. "My guys who would be best at this definitely look a bit sketchy."

Steph laughs. We're both staring at our notes, silence in the room. Manny sticks his head back in and, without looking up from her notes, Steph says, "Five more minutes, Manny." He nods and closes the door. Finally, she looks up at me.

"You're cautious. You're more cautious than I expected."

Yes, I'm extremely cautious. I have friends who went to Wall Street as high flyers. They're now unemployed because their firms, their colleagues and their bosses made big bets that failed. They laughed at me for taking this job, but I still have my house and car and 401(k). They don't.

No one is going to hold me responsible for taking the branch down. Not a chance.

Steph raises her head and blows out air. "Let's break for lunch. You have a Core Team. Do you trust them?"

I nod. Yes, I trust Manny, Diego, and Adam. I wish I could keep them.

"Then sit with them. Open up about your thought process. Listen to their assessments. And listen to your own gut. What's it telling you? If you aren't sure, call someone else you trust." Steph stands with her notes and gives me a small smile. "I'm going to lunch. We'll talk about this again at 4PM. OK? That gives you most of the afternoon to decide which direction to take." She grins. "Who decorated this office? Les?" I grin. "I thought so. Designed to make people uncomfortable or to trap them." She shakes her head. "I'm contacting a decorator."

I laugh. I can feel the pressure easing off. I have five hours to make a decision on the future of this branch.

I hope Manny and Diego feel like salads today. I don't think my stomach could tolerate anything heavy.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Now I see what Manny meant by 'slow to make a decision'.

Javier's slow in the way you say 'dinosaurs are extinct' or 'Joe is hairy' or 'Ranger is magic in bed'.

We went back and forth for 2.5 hours before calling it quits. I'm mentally exhausted and my back has a kink. I put 'Call a decorator!' at the top of my To-Do list. I wait until I'm in the car with Hector and the audio monitoring is disabled to finally blow up.

"Jesus Christ! You'd think I was asking Javier to make life or death decisions! I think his management style is to wait for the last man standing. Just wait to see who or what lasts the longest and whatever's left is the winner. He never makes a quick decision! He would have waited forever if I didn't tell him to make a decision by 4PM today!"

I continue to blow up for another 20 minutes before Hector decides he's had enough.

"And this is different from your decision making style how?" Hector asks, eyebrow raised. How did he manage to con me into letting him drive? I guess with the way I'm feeling right now, it's the smart move.

"I can make a decision. I make decisions all the time. Big decisions, small decisions, I make decisions every day."

"The importance of decisions is personal to the individual making them. To you, company decisions are not big decisions so you don't have a problem making them. So you make unimportant decisions every day. Decisions that aren't personal. Decisions that don't affect you."

"That's not true. Every decision I make affects this company and they are big decisions."

"Now you make big decisions. OK, I'll accept that. Tell me, Steph, before you became CO, what was your management style?"

Uh oh. I'm starting to feel a breeze, a big one. A skirt-raising one. My spidey senses are buzzing 'Danger! Danger!' Hector is rarely this serious. Where's that black pillowcase?

"Am I right in saying that your management style was decision by attrition also? If you didn't get the skip today, try again whenever? Try harder closer to the deadline? Even knowing that catching skips was your livelihood, you were slapdash doing it. Miss him today? Go home, take a shower, eat a doughnut. Tomorrow is another day."

I have no reply for that. He's right but I don't think that's fair. My skips are wily. I have a theory: the smaller the bond, the harder to catch.

"For you, catching skips was not important. Your livelihood was not important. Not life and death important because it was just you. You just needed to have a place to live and to pay your bills, and if you needed food, you ate at your mother's. If you needed more money because things were getting tight, you came to RangeMan."

I look over at Hector in horror. He shrugs.

"I'm the only person outside Leadership Core who knows that. I was the one who set up your permissions, and I saw an email once where Ranger gave permission for you to work whenever. No one has ever said anything and Ranger would never have admitted. I simply figured it out."

I'm still embarrassed Hector knew. I turn back toward the New York traffic in front of us. So far, I'm not liking this conversation, and I'm not sure where Hector is going but I have a feeling it's about to get much worse before it gets better. This is another 'black pillowcase'.

"My point is that once you became CO, the decisions you made about your job became much more important. You make your decisions quickly, but decisively, based on the information you have at the moment. You don't procrastinate decisions affecting the company. You're in charge of more people and your decisions have a greater impact. It's not just you anymore." Hector pauses and negotiates a tricky turn. "The same goes for Javier. He's slow to make a decision because he wants to make the right decision. He wants to examine all possibilities and look at all alternatives. Once he makes a decision he's OK with it because he knows he made the best decision he could with the information he had. It's the one thing that's kept him alive as an XO. Whenever Lester asked him to justify his decisions, he always could on facts."

We travel a few more blocks and hit the Williamsburg Bridge. I'm thinking about what Hector has said so far. I know there's more coming.

"Now, my dear _Angelita_, for the part you won't like. I got mad because you are being a hypocrite."

I'm stunned by that. Me? A hypocrite? "How?"

"Let's examine your personal life."

Let's not, Hector. Please, let's not. The spidey senses are doing 'fight or flight' motions on me. The pillowcase is coming down.

"How long will it take you to make a decision about Joe and Ranger?"

Oh shit. No. NO. I want out the car. NOW.

"So far, the city of Trenton has been waiting on this decision for four years. I think the pot is somewhere around $90,000, even money odds. No one understands what's taking you so long. It's a process of attrition, as you say. You'll be with the last man standing. That's all anyone understands. So they're waiting to see who wins, who's still standing. Lately, with the men having disappeared and you working in management at RangeMan, the pot has tipped toward Ranger but everyone agrees that they've seen this before. And before you ask, there are no RangeMen in the pot. You know we don't tolerate that internally, but we can't stop everyone else."

The tears are falling silently down my cheeks. Hector passes his handkerchief. The entire city of Trenton is betting on my life? They have no fucking right! It's not any of their business! It's my business who I'm with and no one, NO ONE, has the right to bet on my life, especially not my love life!

"The decision is big. It's important. It's life or death. And you are messing with the lives of four people in making it."

Right! Damn right. Wait, what? "Four?"

"You, Ranger, Joe, and whoever marries the loser in your three-way relationship," Hector replies.

We travel for a few minutes before Hector continues. "Now, think about what I just said about Javier. Deliberate. Wants to make the right decision because it's big to him, because it affects more people than just him. Wants to examine all possibilities. Looks at all alternatives. Is OK with the decision once he makes it because he's making it on facts. Does that sound like what you're doing with Joe and Ranger?"

I think about it. Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. For the first time, I actually can do this. I've never had this opportunity and I'm taking it. I finally get to examine what life with Ranger will be like and he's finally giving me some hope that we can have a relationship.

"Does Javier's reluctance to make quick decisions make sense to you now?"

"Not really. I mean, I understand compared to my life, but I don't."

Hector sighs. "Javier treats business decisions with all the importance that you treat the decisions over your personal life. New York is a city that glorifies quick, decisive decision makers but eats failures alive. He's seen what could happen and he doesn't want to be the man at the helm who led the ship into the iceberg, if you get my analogy. His experience tells him to move slowly, be as close to certain as he can get, and to be able to justify his decisions."

Hector pauses and takes a quick slug of water. "So, let's take the analogy back to you. You made a quick decision to marry Dickie based on incomplete information and pressure from outside sources. The 'Burg ate you alive when the marriage failed, right?"

"How did you know that?"

Hector stares at me. "Common knowledge."

Oh. Right. I nod. Is everything about my life common knowledge? I mean, he's right; that is true. I had to hear clucking 'sympathy' and well-meaning but unwelcome advice for weeks when I divorced Dickie. Some of it still hurts, which is why I don't like to think of it. Even Mom and Mary Lou thought I should attend marriage counseling and try to work it out, if I wanted to stay married. The only thing I wanted to work out was the image of Dickie's pale ass with Joyce on my dining room table. Dad was the only person to pat my shoulder and offer his pistol. If needed.

"This time around you're taking your time, reviewing all the information on your candidates that you can get. You've lived with Joe, met his family and friends I assume, and you know what life with him will be like. I assume that, for the moment, you are rejecting that path and investigating what life with Ranger will be like."

I nod. I think the worst is over. The black pillowcase has been removed. Being partnered with Hector has been the best move anyone could have ever made. Hector helps me think through things without being judgmental. Hector is blunt and to the point, but he isn't judgmental.

"So you're running his company, which gives you insight into the kind of man he is and the kind of people he surrounds himself with. These will be the people closest to you in your relationship with him. You haven't met his family yet but you have met his daughter. What kind of relationship do you and Julie have?"

"Excellent. I love Julie and can't wait to get down to Miami to spend time with her again."

Hector nods. "So no stepmother-stepdaughter issues between you two. The only things up in the air are the kind of relationship you'll have, and by that I mean will it be sanctioned in the church, and if you two decide to have children."

I sigh. "We're both divorced, Hector. No church sanction." I'm still nervous about those issues, Hector, and there are a few more outstanding.

Hector shrugs. "Ok. Anyway, that's what I mean. Slow, deliberate process reviewing all the information at your disposal and making a decision based on facts. Now, because we're talking about people and relationships, you have to allow for a certain amount of unpredictability because we are talking about emotions." Hector smiles. "Love is rarely sensible but marriage? Marriages that last are based on sensible standards. Do we get along? Do we share the same values? Do we support each other? Are our goals in life similar? Are we able to make decisions together and can we disagree and still be OK with each other? That sort of thing."

I nod. My first clue that Dickie and I weren't meant to last should have been the fact that we could barely get through Pre-Cana and even then I'm sure we both lied at certain points. I did about birth control and household duties.

"So, although I sometimes wish Javier could make a quick decision, I don't fault him for moving slowly. He likes to make sure he has facts and can justify his decisions. However, I agree with you that he can't use this as a basis for moving like a snail on every decision. He needs some standards, a threshold to encourage him to make quicker decisions. No idea what it could be but he needs one. This is where you can help him, _Angelita_."

True. I'll need to think about setting a standard for Javier. Perhaps a money or time threshold would work. If the decision is under a certain amount of money, or he's been considering it for X number of days, he can make the decision with the information he has. That might encourage him to make quicker decisions and give him a way to justify it if it goes wrong. I write that down as something to consider.

I love my partner. I never want to have anyone else as a partner besides Hector. I wonder if he's suggesting I need a threshold for making my decision on Ranger. I've chosen Ranger but I don't know what life **with** him will be like. That's what's up in the air now.

"When did you become an expert on relationships?" I ask.

Hector goes blank faced. "As a gay man, with my reputation, I've always been the bridesmaid. Never the bride."

For some reason, that brings tears to my eyes. No one deserves a loving, faithful partner more than Hector. "Never come close?"

He shakes his head. "As a _Reyes_, I had to keep that part of myself hidden. Homosexuality is a killable offense. I've only been divorced a few years and I've spent that time working and trying to set up my life outside the gang. Ensuring that Hector Manuel is taken care of if something happens to me. Listening for chatter against me or Ranger." He blows air out, as if he's forcing himself not to . . . cry? "I understood what I was as a teenager. It took a long time for me to accept it. Trying to find someone has been on my back burner."

"Divorced?" Hector's been married?

"Separated from the gang."

"Oh."

"Where were you all morning?"

"Errand."

We continue to ride in silence, me thinking about Javier's and Hector's situations. And, honestly, my own.

* * *

**Javier's POV**

I'm looking at Manny and Diego. They've returned to my office and they have both put their blank face into place. Adam is catching up on work from Danny and has to bow out, but he'll join us for lunch. I take a long exhale and motion for them to sit.

"Look, you both know I'm not creative. I copped to it weeks ago. Steph called me cautious before she left and she's right."

Manny nods. Diego makes no motion to acknowledge my statement. I sit back and try to think of a way to explain myself.

"My best friend is a guy named Jorge. We grew up together, graduated high school, got into Ivies. Coming from the Bronx, that was big shit. I went to NYU, he went to Columbia and we both graduated with honors. I wanted to go into government, work for the feds, but he went to Wall Street." I smile wryly. "Lehman Brothers."

At that, both Manny and Diego have a ghost of a smile on their face. Now they know how this story ends.

"Yeah. Exactly. I went to SecuritySystems while waiting on my security clearance and found I really liked the work, really enjoyed what I was doing, but I wanted to be able to leave the moment my security clearance came through. Took two fucking years, but I finally got through. I went to DHS, hated it, and came back. Meanwhile Jorge was a Wall Street high flyer. Derivatives trader making major bank. He was one of those guys that got vilified when it all came crashing down. He was one of the many guys putting together mortgage backed securities."

Now Manny and Diego are nodding. I need to wrap this story up.

"I stayed here, like the turtle with my predictable if fun job, making $80K once I got into management. Basic middle class salary in NYC, but I bought a house, a nice car, and could afford to take my girlfriend out on weekends. Jorge was living it up until it all crashed, not baller status, but he helped the family, proposed to his girl, that sort of thing." I look at my legal pad and shake my head.

"Jorge made big bets during the boom, huge bets. You gotta remember, he had insider information. He worked in the industry and he invested heavily in what he sold. When it all came crashing down, he had less than nothing. Bankruptcy, foreclosure, not just for him, but his mother too. And his sister. He was paying for his niece's convent school education. It was bad. Jorge now works as a mid-level analyst. $65K."

I shake my head. "His family barely speaks to him because they lost homes and money betting on his bets. His girlfriend disappeared. She threatens to have him arrested every month for coming up late on child support, and the courts haven't gotten around to his case to modify because he no longer makes $250K. Seeing his daughter takes major negotiation and his ex uses the child as a bargaining chip. She was looking forward to the huge wedding and the lavish honeymoon. She's still pissed she paid all the deposits and it never happened, but she was in it for his money. Everything he had was taken away when the job and the money were gone."

Manny whistles at Jorge's fall. It was a huge loss.

"I tell you this story so you understand my thought process. I watched my best friend crash and burn because, at the end of the day, he didn't have enough information. He was a player in this market and he was still playing blind. There isn't a single person in this country who truly understands that derivatives crap everyone was buying into, but one tiny island in this country precipitated a financial collapse felt around the world."

The guys are nodding now. I run my hands through my hair and blow out a breath. This part coming up is the part everyone has trouble with when it comes to me.

"For the men who work here, RangeMan is the world. I have a responsibility to them. I have to make sure I completely understand what I'm betting on, what I'm moving the branch into. I don't want to be Jorge, making bets on incomplete information. His situation still hurts my heart. That man is a shell of the guy I grew up with, all because he bet wrong and didn't know it. The guys who work here, we all know that they probably couldn't get hired anywhere else. If I bet wrong and take this branch down, they're unemployed. I fail them. I cause a collapse in their world. Some of these men are just getting on their feet, just getting a chance to prove that they are more than their reputations."

I pin Diego and Manny with a glare and I'm pleased to see each of them squirm minutely.

"**I will not fail them.** I will make sure that every move I make means that they remain employed, that they can do what's best for their families. If it means that everyone in management looks at me with exasperation, so be it. But I'm not moving until I'm sure I'm right."

I sit back and think about Jorge. I need to call him tonight, make sure he's holding up OK.

Manny looks thoughtful. "Jorge. What's his background?"

"Marketing and Finance."

Manny smiles. "I'd like to meet him."

Diego and I look at him in confusion.

"Trust me on this. I have a feeling. Is he available for lunch?" Manny asks.

I shrug and text Jorge. Yeah, he's available. He was just RIF'd this morning. Cutbacks. I tell Manny.

"Serendipity. Let's go."


	47. I Just Need Your Support

**Chapter 47: I just need your support**

**Manny's POV**

My instincts are screaming that I've just found the perfect strategist for Javier. Jorge sounds like exactly what Javier needs: someone who's rash, bold, and likes to make bets. Javier would balance him out, force him to prove his assumptions. Jorge is someone Javi trusts. It's about time I finally found Javier an option; I had examined the backgrounds of every rising employee within RangeMan and none of them were right for Javi. I'm willing to take the chance on this guy.

Diego closes the office door and we shuffle around, pretending to search for keys. Diego gives Adam the rundown of the situation, and both of them are looking at me like I've lost my mind.

"Explain," Adam asks, softly.

"This guy sounds like the perfect counterweight for Javier. This guy is fast, makes bets and hunches, will take a chance. Come on, Wall Street trader? He's used to making quick decisions, moving decisively. He'll push Javi to make decisions, and he will help him bounce ideas around. Plus, his background is finance and marketing. He'll get out there and fight for business. Meanwhile, Javi is slow, deliberate, and cautious. He'll force his friend to prove he's right, get the market research. Given what Jorge has already been through, Javier won't have to push that demand too hard."

I can see them considering what I've said. Diego starts to smile.

I grin. "Plus, this is his boy, from way back. This man has been through hell. He needs a job and he's hungry. Javi will trust him, and Jorge will work himself to the bone to never let Javi down. If his boy hires him to help him turn this branch around, he will be forever loyal to his XO. And Javi will never have to wonder if his strategist has an ulterior motive for doing something."

Diego is grinning now. "I'm gonna miss your instincts when this is over, man. You're right. He will never betray Javi, and they seem to balance each other's defects."

Adam yawns and grins, shaking his head.

I 'find' the keys and smile. "Both of you trust your instincts over this lunch. See how you feel about him. I've been wracking my brain trying to find Javi a strategist from within the company, but there's no one in the company who could truly balance him. This guy might be the right one."

* * *

My instincts are humming "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Jorge Ortega has the look of a beaten, but not defeated, man. 5'11", 190, with brown eyes and close-cropped black hair, he's solid but not fat. Good; standards shouldn't be that hard for him to meet. He's early to the restaurant and he and Javi do the man hug. Javi introduces us and we all sit down and order. This place is the quintessential NYC diner: red pleather booths that have multiple splits in the seat, pictures of some religious figure (Pope John Paul II is the runaway favorite), and a constant smell of burnt cheese and NYC traffic. It's a heady mix.

Javi and Jorge spend a few minutes discussing his daughter and his (former) job before he turns to us.

"OK, Javi isn't big on keeping secrets, so what's up?" He smiles wryly. "Am I in violation of a bond I didn't know about? You guys here to take me in?"

Javi looks at him in confusion. "You get arrested?"

Jorge rolls his eyes. "Joke." Javi exhales and shakes his head.

"No, actually we wanted to meet you. Javi just told us your background. Tough break," Diego says coolly.

Jorge has a blank face, and he slams it into place. Shit, his is excellent and it was fast. Javi grimaces slightly before sliding his in place. I hear his foot going, and I'm sure Diego is grinding his teeth again. He's determined to rid Javi of nervous tics. Adam has his blank face in place and sips his water while bouncing his leg. Adam's nervous tic for amusement. Javi has damn near everyone doing some sort of bouncing or tapping. I see why Diego is going insane. Me? FBI and Trenton training. I'm amused internally. My tics are minimal.

The food arrives and we take a few minutes to chow down. Silence takes over the table before Jorge speaks again.

"I've already declared bankruptcy and I don't have a house, so if you're here to serve me papers for my part in the financial crisis, fuck you."

Adam, Diego and I smirk. Sorry, but we need to test you. So far, good choice. He has thick skin.

"Perhaps you should outline your current problem with your boy, Javi," I tell him. He looks at me in confusion. I nod. I need to see this. Javi turns to Jorge and begins to outline the problem. As Javi talks, I see the light coming back into Jorge's eyes. Yes, there's trust and support there between them, and Jorge is a problem solver. He's hungry for a challenge.

We watch in amazement as Jorge helps Javi probe each option we presented. Even more, Jorge presents Javi with a new option, which Javi immediately jumps on. They probe weaknesses in that one and discuss alternatives, and finally Javi is grinning. He's made a decision.

I look at Diego. He's actually smiling. His face must be cracking. He looks at me and nods. I shake my head and nod at him. Your call, Diego. You're looking at your replacement. You'll have to train him, get him up to speed before you can leave.

Our silent conversation is causing confusion for Javi and Jorge, which is amusing. These two have been boys so long they don't realize that they also ESP each other. That quick conversation didn't contain a single verbal sentence.

Diego turns to Jorge. "Ever thinking of working for RangeMan?" he asks.

Jorge stiffens minutely. "I don't need handouts," he spits.

"Good," Diego replies, just as hard. "We aren't offering you one. We're offering you a job. Believe me, you will **work** for your salary. But we've been looking around the company for someone to serve as a second to Javi, someone who can balance him. When Javi told us your story, Manny immediately thought you might be the man. Having met you and watched the two of you talk, I agree."

Javi is looking at the two of us in cautious happiness. The foot is tapping until Diego glares at him to stop. Adam also stops with the leg bouncing. Jorge clearly isn't sure what to think.

"I didn't come here to beg for a job."

"Haven't heard you ask for one," Adam replies, popping a fry into his mouth. "We're offering you one."

Jorge turns to Javi. "I don't need you to beg for a job for me."

"_Hermano_, I didn't, I promise you," Javi replies. "I told them about you because my boss is irritated with me because I'm slow making decisions." At this Jorge chuckles. "Exactly. I haven't changed, and I needed them to understand why I'm so adamant about having research and information for everything I do. I was surprised when Manny said he wanted to meet you. I'm not involved in whatever these two have cooked up."

Jorge is quiet. Finally, he asks, "What are the requirements?"

Adam, Diego and I grin. RM-NYC finally has a strategist.

* * *

We take Jorge back to RM-NYC and while Diego gives Jorge a tour, I call Tank about hiring someone from outside directly into management. Tank is silent on the phone.

"You discuss this with the CO?"

"We're waiting for her to come back from lunch to discuss it." I gotta finish this milkshake before Wifey gets back. I'm a dead man if she spots it.

"You trust your instincts with this guy?"

"Yes, sir. My instincts are screaming this is the right one, but I'll still have the full background and assessment done on him."

Tank is silent. Finally, "Steph's call. I trust her instincts. If she signs off, congrats. You've found the right strategist for RM-NYC."

I smile. "Sir, yes, sir." _Click._

I rejoin the guys. Jorge is looking around in surprise. "This isn't what I expected. This place is slick." He snorts. "Traditional brick outside, glass and chrome inside. Designed to remind you not to underestimate the individuals inside from the moment you step in."

Diego's eyebrow lifts minutely. Jorge is proving, yet again, why he might be a good gamble. He understands the psychology of the decorating scheme in this office.

"Explain," Adam says. We all slide our blank faces into place.

He's still moving around, examining the furnishings, before he turns. "So, I'm thinking that whoever did the decorating wants you to feel just slightly uncomfortable? We're in an area that's gentrifying, but before this would have been an _interesting_ area to find these kinds of furnishings. You step in and the furnishings are Manhattan, glass, chrome, shiny, not the leather and wood comfortable that you would associate with Brooklyn. Then you have the modern art on the walls contrasting with the subtle military motifs and the armed men walking around." He pauses and strokes his goatee. "You walk in here and you have no fucking idea what to think. All of it feels out of place but not. It's not exactly welcoming, but it's not overtly scary. If you're a client, you're at a subtle disadvantage before we even start talking contracts because you're uneasy."

Javi is grinning. Diego, Adam, and I all felt that from the moment we walked in, but Javi had to explain the psychology to us. Jorge got it from jump.

"Javi never brought you here?" Adam asks. Jorge shakes his head. "He never described the place?"

"Nope. I asked, but he reminded me that it was a secure building." He snorts. "Even things as minute as the art on the walls was classified, in his opinion."

"Well, maybe I went a bit far with the art, but I like watching people walk in and react to the office. It's fun." We all smirk.

"How did you learn to assess this kind of stuff?" Diego asks.

"Wall Street," he answers with a grin. "Psychology is 50% of the game. You have to be able to understand every subtle technique that could be used against you. It's not enough to recognize it, which is what most guys can do. You have to understand what the effect is supposed to be."

"So you wouldn't bring people here to sign contracts?"

Jorge's eyebrows rise. "Oh no, I **would**. Everything about this is subtle. Just enough for you to feel uneasy but not enough for you to see the psychological manipulation. Add in the men who don't _appear_ to be armed, but I know that you guys are armed to the teeth right now, and the fact that all this stuff is designer and expensive, and a negotiator walking in to lower a contract is already feeling subtly threatened and ill at ease. He's more interested in making it out alive than really trying to press his case. Only if you're as heavily armed as the men around you do you feel OK with really trying to negotiate like a bulldog, but how many people are stepping into _this_ office armed to the teeth?"

If he had not passed the informal interview, he has now.

"So are you feeling threatened?" Adam asks.

Jorge grins. "Slightly. On one hand, I feel the waves of power and authority this room is throwing off. This is pretty intimidating for a lobby, but it sets the right tone for a security company. On the other hand, Javi is standing right there." They grin at each other. "I've had a lot of shit happen in my life, but the one thing I know is that if I'm about to catch bullets, so is he."

Success! I picked the right man!

Jorge walks over to us and looks at me. "So my job is to be the ideas man? To get out there and move the branch forward? Think up new solutions and see if I can get Javi to move forward off his ass, right?" Javi pushes Jorge and they both laugh.

I smile. "Yep. That's the job."

Jorge nods. "Sounds good. What's the next step?"

"You need to meet the CO. She'll be back at 4." Javi and Diego look at me. "Just got off the phone with Tank." They nod.

Jorge grins. "No problem. I'm good with the ladies."

Every single one of us stiffens and drops his blank face into place. Jorge blinks. It was fast and absolute. Javi responds. "Not that kind of situation, Jorge. Take the CO very seriously. This woman saved my job and my ass. I respect her totally and she's not one to even attempt to bullshit. She will smell it and rub your nose in it fast, dude."

Jorge blinks and nods. "OK. Message received."

Javi gives him a ghost of a smile. "Remember me telling you about the _Asesino_, the _Reyes_ who wiped out an entire region in Jersey."

"Hell yeah," Jorge laughs. "Sorry, but that dude does not exist. Somebody would've offed him by now."

Javi, Diego, Adam and I all look at each other. Finally, Javi turns back to Jorge. "You'll meet him at 4PM."

Jorge stops laughing. "No shit?"

"None."

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Hector took me shopping on Madison Avenue during the break. Well, we went window shopping. He's promised me the 34th Street Macy's tonight.

I thought about Javier's problems while at lunch, and I realized that he and I are in the same boat. We have to prove to the world that we aren't as incompetent as assumed, that we really are the right people for our jobs. We're both fighting against the assumptions already out there about us. Javier is widely seen as a failure as an XO, but he was betrayed by those he was supposed to be able to trust. I'm a good bounty hunter, but weird things just happen to me. I don't go looking for trouble.

This is my second chance to prove that I can be really good at a job, and it all revolves around the fact that Tank, Lester, and Bobby were willing to trust me with their company. They were willing to trust the woman known for explosions, mayhem and disasters with their multi-million dollar security company. If I make mistakes, if I cause chaos, I can sink RangeMan and they won't have a company to come back to. But they trust me to do this and do it right.

Javier needs my trust and support. I've sent him the best strategists in the company. I've given the orders necessary to help him fight his way back. I've cleared money and men to come help. But these are just things. He needs to know that I trust him to make the right decisions for the branch, just as the guys trust me to do the same company-wide. Just as Ranger does. 'Proud of you, Babe' means more than any car.

We reach RM-NYC and Hector and I travel to the fifth floor. There's a new guy standing with Javi, and Manny, Adam and Diego are smiling. 5'11 with black hair, brown eyes and a killer smile. Yum. The guy off CSI: Miami. The one that plays Delko. I loved him until I met Ranger. This is a dangerous mix. Javi looks like the darker version of Ranger and this guy is the sexy cop off CSI: Miami? Whew . . . . time for a sugary treat.

"Stephanie Plum, Hector Guiterrez, I'd like you to meet Jorge Ortega," Javier says. He repeats it in Spanish for Hector.

I reach out a hand to shake and he takes it in both hands and kisses the back of my hand. Hector slides his 'psycho' face into place, and Jorge releases my hand nervously. Hector lifts his hand as if he expects Jorge to kiss it too, and Manny and Diego hide smiles.

"_Umm . . . do you really want me to kiss your hand?"_ Jorge asks.

Hector raises an eyebrow. "_Is that what you feel is appropriate?"_ he asks in Spanish. Manny murmurs the translation to me.

Point made, but I liked that. Jorge inclines his head at me in apology and shakes Hectors now-lowered hand.

I turn to Javier. "Before you give me the heads up on what's going on, I need to speak to you privately."

Javier puts his blank face into place and follows me to his office. I take his chair this time, which makes him grin. He sits on the edge of the sofa. The foot tapping starts almost immediately.

"I owe you an apology."

Javier blinks and looks confused. "What?"

I lift my head. "I'm sorry." Javier blinks and looks at me. The tapping stops. "I had a chance over lunch to think about you and what's going on here and I realized that you and I, we're a lot alike." I sit back and smile at him. "You and I both have to prove that we're good at our jobs and that we deserve the role we have. We're doing it against a history of assumed failures that really aren't entirely our fault."

Javier sits back with a small sad smile on his face. He nods.

"So I'm sorry I was frustrated with you earlier. You don't deserve that. I want you to know that I trust you and I trust in your judgment. But I do need you to explain to me what your thought process is. I want to help. I want you to succeed, and if you were thinking this is your formal review, it's not. There are too many things going on here right now for me to actually review NYC. I'm thinking that NYC will be my last review, to give you time to really make changes here."

Javier is quiet for a moment. Finally, he looks at me, and I know I made the right decision. "Thank you, Stephanie. Your support means a lot and I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you've done since I called to tell you about this branch, and thank you for giving me more time to turn it around." He stands up and holds his arms out for a hug. We stand in a tight embrace for a few moments, but finally we break apart and Javier grins.

"The guys think they've found me a strategist."

"Jorge?"

"Yeah. Let me tell you about him." I listen as Javier tells me about his childhood friend and his difficulties. I nod, curious to really meet him now. I have some new options for Javier, but I want to see what this guy has come up with.

"Is this someone you trust?" Javier nods. "Do you think he's right for the position?"

Javier breaks into a huge grin and nods. "I'm about to prove it to you." He goes to the door and lets the guys in. Everyone gets comfortable (I snort mentally. There is **no **getting comfortable in this office. I **have **to call the decorator) and I pull out my legal pad.

"OK, so you asked me to take lunch and think about my options. We met with Jorge over lunch and he gave me a new option." He nods to Jorge to take over. Jorge takes a deep breath and looks at everyone.

"So, here's the situation. $5mil to play with, three options. I advised Javi to split the money. Put $2 mil into the security assessments side. Find the best three of his guys to be his sales team for that and start hunting down contracts. As he gains more contracts, hire a few women for the roles and even out the teams. Then he has a true client services group and a mix of talents."

I nod. Good idea. OK, I like this guy already. Quick thinker and he came up with the same idea I had.

"Take the other $3mil and move into business investigations. With the collapse of the banking system, there are banks out there that really want and need someone to go and assess property and individuals. Make sure they come up clean. This is an underserved area and I'm sure we can get the market data to support it. With my background in high finance, I'm sure I can work my contacts to determine where we can go for the big money contracts. Furthermore, there's growth there because that can go international. A bank trying to determine if they should purchase property in Kuala Lumpur or Grozny is more willing to trust a US-based security team than a foreign team with their own agenda. Especially if that team has the credentials that RangeMan has."

I'm smiling. This could be a spectacular business opportunity and even better, he has the background and experience to make it work. If I had suggested this, I'm not sure where Javier and Diego could have started in getting these contracts.

"So, stagger the implementations. Start with the security assessments, get the contracts. 2-3 months later, start the business investigations. That gives us time to get the market data to support our assumptions and to figure out how to market and sell these services if we move forward. Plus, hiring men for this will be easier. There are literally thousands of men unemployed due to the housing collapse. We can pick and choose. If every man has to meet RangeMan standards and comes in on probation if he's close but not quite there, then we can hire the men we want, get them to standards fast, and get them out doing investigations."

I like him more and more.

"Side note." He looks at Javi. "Dude, the furniture in here? Does anyone get a break?" Everyone laughs and shifts around. Jorge gives up and sits on the floor, starting a fresh round of laughs. Adam leaves and returns with water for everyone.

"Comfort first," Jorge grins. "OK, so I know that this is an elite security firm but in NYC, everyone of importance either has a bodyguard or rents one. If you don't have a niche in that market, it's useless. Security, personal security, isn't huge but investigations?" He grins big. "That's huge. No one trusts anyone else, especially not now. A security firm with guys who can snoop and investigate? Big seller.

Plus, you can make the salary situation work for you. Offer a starting salary of $65K for RangeMen coming in on probation until they meet standards. Once they meet standards, up them to $85K. Every man is going to want his money, so it's an incentive to get off his behind and get in the gun range. This way, you can hire more men who don't quite meet, train them to **your** requirements, and not have to worry about trying to pay everyone six figures at once."

I'm surprised we didn't think of this for the salary situation. OK, I'm officially impressed. He took every disadvantage of this branch and made it work for Javier. I look at Manny and Diego, who are trying to hide smiles. Adam is smiling openly. Hector has his 'polite smile' face in place but he's raised his eyebrows minutely. I know the look on my partner's face. He's impressed. I look at Javi, who looks happy.

"Javier? Your opinion?"

"This is workable for me, Steph," he says. "I can move into an area where I know I can get business fast and get the market data I need to support the other decision. Plus, I make my money go further and I make our salary situation work for us."

I nod and look at my notes. Finally, I look at Manny, eyebrow raised.

"Not quite," he grins. "I called him. He said it's your call."

OK, so Tank knows. Everyone seems to think this is a good idea. I'm looking at Jorge. He looks nervous but confident. My spidey-senses aren't tingling on him and I like his demeanor, his attitude. He speaks quickly, thinks quickly, and makes quick decisions. He doesn't appear to have any nervous tics so far, which is great. Javi's tapping is driving me and Diego up the walls. He accepted this job over lunch after auditioning successfully for it with Diego, Manny and Adam. Diego and Manny believe he's right for the position. He balances Javier, and Javier trusts him and believes he can do it.

I'm going to support my XO. At least he didn't hesitate in making **this** decision.

I smile. "Welcome to RangeMan, Mr. Ortega. You are now the strategist for RangeMan NYC."

* * *

**Jorge's POV**

I can't fucking believe it. I was hired.

I have a job.

I have a serious job.

I do some quick math in my head. Javi said that salary here had just been given a 30% differential, which means that I started this morning making $65K and ended the day making $130K, well, once I make their standards.

Un-_fucking_-believable. I doubled my salary in eight hours.

I look around at the people in this room. These are my new colleagues. My best friend convinced his boss to hire me. His colleagues heard about me and thought I might be the right man for the job.

I will never, _ever_, let Javi down. This man has done more for me than anyone else. More than my family, my (ex) girl, and my so-called friends. Javi has stuck with me when I was at my highest and when I was at my lowest.

I thank God daily for the financial crisis. Not because it was a great thing, because it wasn't. No, I thank him because I found out who I could really count on in this world and that number boiled down to two people.

My _abuela_ and my best friend. That's it. Everyone else abandoned me when I no longer had the money, the car, the house, the bling.

Tatiana is in for a huge surprise. Once I make it off probation and have settled into this job, we are going to court. I want court mandated visitation with my daughter. My baby girl deserves to know Daddy loves her, even if he can't shower Mommy with fancy jewels and expensive vacations anymore. Daddy is going to get his child support straight and get it paid up to date. I'm not going to have Tatiana holding my daughter as a bargaining chip anymore. Things are about to change.

I look at the CO (I need to learn the lingo fast. What does CO mean?) and commit everything about her to memory. I will never forget this woman as long as I live. The final decision was hers and she hired me. She will always be a special person in my heart. I need to get up to speed on the security industry ASAP. I can't let her or Javi down. I'll memorize everything I can get my hands on by the end of the week.

Diego, Manny and Adam motion for me to follow them. I look back at Javi, who smiles and nods, so I follow these guys into another office. It's nice, a carbon copy of Javi's. Two floor to ceiling windows flanked by bookcases. A drinks cabinet (wonder if there's anything in there) and metal filing cabinets. A glass desk and sleek desktop accessories. Ugly ass art on the walls in this office (seriously? Dogs playing poker? That has to belong to the last guy.) I wonder if I'm allowed the change the furniture or if I can talk Javi into it. If I thought the lobby was an exercise in psychological manipulation, the furniture in Javi's office is a psychological beat down and I have that same furniture.

"Welcome to RangeMan," Diego says, smiling. I shake his hand and Manny and Adam repeat the welcome. Adam leaves to catch up on other work but says he'll be back later.

"First thing you should know: we're going to do a full background on you," Manny says. "You'll also have a drug test and a fitness assessment."

I nod. These are things Javi has told me about. The guys continue to outline what's going to happen over the next few days. Diego will teach me everything I need to know about the industry, Manny will teach me RangeMan particulars, this is my new office (sweet! The poker dogs are gone! My style is tasteful.), and there's another open slot in management they're searching for, the position Adam is currently filling. Now that I'm in place, they can find someone to balance both me and Javi.

I snort. Can't wait to meet this guy. My thoughts must have been written on my face because they smile.

"Rule two in RangeMan management: Develop a blank face," Diego says.

Crap! I hate Javi's. Now, I need to dust mine off?

"Yeah, you do. A man whose face can be read is a liability. And whatever your nervous tics are, get those under control."

That's true. Damn, I guess I need to start practicing again. I slide mine into place and watch both of them smirk. I make a mental note to contact my old manicurist. My nervous tic is picking at my cuticles. Subtle because it just looks like you're playing with your fingers and most men don't pay attention to another man's hands to that degree.

Women, of course, catch me out on it immediately. They notice stuff like that.

"Rule one in RangeMan management: This is a brotherhood. We don't leave anyone's ass hanging in the wind. Steadfast loyalty, courage, conviction, all of it runs through this organization," Manny says.

I have to blink at that statement. I've seen it in Javi for years. Being hired into a company where this is a motto means more than these guys will ever know.

"You'll receive it, but you'll also be required to give it. Your predecessor had no loyalty to his XO. He'll probably be fired. Don't let that happen to you," Diego adds.

I snort. Whatever dumb fuck betrayed Javier should never meet me in a dark alley. I will knife him with **no** regrets. **TREMONT!**

"You can always call on any branch for assistance and support and they will give it to you. What you need, no questions," Diego clears his throat and Manny amends the statement, "OK, very few questions asked." He grins. "We're a bunch of nosy bastards in this company."

"Where are you guys located?"

"I'm from Miami," Diego says, "and Manny is from Trenton. We'll probably ask Patrick, the Boston strategist, to come down here and meet with you soon. Manny and Pat are your closest allies. Get to know them and their management colleagues well. They'll be the first to respond to you when you need them."

"I'll probably leave for a few days within the next few weeks. I have to get back to Trenton before Hal loses it." Diego laughs and Manny smiles and shakes his head. "Diego will be here with you until you get this branch stabilized." He looks at me wryly. "You're about to get a crash course. I hope you're ready. We're here to support you and we won't leave until we feel you've got it down. You have the next two weeks to get to know the CO and pick her brain. She's wily and creative herself, so feel free to approach her. The Leadership Core, our highest level of management, is currently in Texas opening a new branch, but Lester Santos, the Chief Strategist for the company, is flying in tonight. You'll meet him tomorrow. He'll also be your boss."

"Question." Manny nods. "What does 'CO' mean?"

They grin. "Commanding Officer," Manny replies. "The leadership of the company are all military and so is most of the middle management. XO is Executive Officer. That's Javi's title." They look at each other and have another silent conversation. That's freaky. Finally, Manny nods and turns to me. "I'll write out a list of titles and acronyms for you to learn. Get them memorized quickly."

Diego breaks in before I can ask my next question. "Oh **GOD**! Not another tapper!"

I still my pen. I was tapping it on my leg as we stood here. Manny doubles over in laughter and I slide the pen into my pocket. Diego runs both hands through his hair and walks out of the office. I laugh. Damn habit of Javi's drives me crazy and now I'm doing it. _Shit!_ He and I are going to have a discussion about that.

Manny crosses his arms and grins at me. "That one drives Diego insane. Since he'll be here with you longest, I'll tell you what his tics are. He clenches his jaw when he's pissed, but it's quick. His mom paid a lot for his braces as a kid, so he tries not to clench his jaw." I smile. "His blank face is his normal face. He's trained himself not to break out of it. He's truly pissed when the nostrils flare. Frustration is what you've just seen. Hands in hair, he walks out. You won't see it too often." Manny grins. "Diego studied our CCO, Chief Commanding Officer, Ranger, for years. Ranger is a black ops commander and is currently on assignment. Anyway, he studied Ranger for years and tried to pick up as many of Ranger's mannerisms as he could. Diego is quick to stop his nervous tics."

"Ranger's?"

Manny snorts. "Good luck. Ranger is a fucking legend. US Army Ranger, which is how he got the nickname. I spent three years with him. The man gives nothing away unless he **wants** to." Diego walks back in. A muscle in his jaw is throbbing.

"Diego? Sorry. That habit of Javi's drives me insane too. I'll work on it. Now, Mr. Santos. How does he fit in?"

Diego pulls a copy of the lines of authority out for me to review. I report to Javi, who reports to Ms. Plum, who reports to the Leadership Core. I'm still not sure I get it.

"Lester is the chief strategist for the company. He sets direction and he's a brilliant fucker, so be prepared to impress," Manny says. "The psychological manipulation in this office? His idea and direction. He is also a US Army Ranger and a tactical commander. Brilliant fucker and he loves mind games. The man is happiest running a psy-op. He and Ranger together? Unbeatable. The Leadership Core was legendary when they were in the field. They're still considered legendary now."

Diego has a ghost of a smile on his face then schools his face blank again. I see what Manny means.

"Les also has oversight of the NYC branch, so he'll always pay attention to your moves, yours, mine, and Pat's, more than anyone else's in this company. So, you report to two levels of management, Javi and Les."

I nod. OK, now that's clear. One of my new bosses is my best friend and the other is a man who loves mind games. I almost feel as if I'm back on Wall Street.

I look around my new office. It's 5PM and the day is ending but my new career is just beginning. These guys are here to support me. My best friend has, yet again, come through for me. I will soon meet the last of my new bosses.

These people are taking a gamble with me. They're assuming I can help Javier save his branch. I don't know anything about the security industry or investigations, but I know business. I'll do whatever it takes.

I'm determined to prove everyone right.

* * *

**A/N: This week? Two stories, three side stories. Have fun.**


	48. If You Keep Going Like This

**Chapter 48: If you keep going like this . . . **

**Lester's POV—Monday night**

Beautiful and I have to have a talk.

When a man walks into his home and encounters a shapely behind clad only in a thong and a tight black T-shirt laid out on his sofa, he gets thoughts. Cargo tightening thoughts. Hell, that's a fucking invitation.

If we have to share this apartment for two weeks, she's gotta wear pants to bed. That's a temptation I don't need. I'm here to assess and stabilize the branch, not fantasize over Steph's ass and prowl the NYC clubs for suitable alternatives. Damn!

I shut the water off after my extra-long (i.e. 15 minute) shower and step out. I open my eyes to the sight of Steph, knife in hand, staring at me in surprise.

Little Les preens at the attention. He's thrilled by her slack-jawed confusion. Is that drool that I see? She's gotta stop. This is killing me. He's coming back to attention, waiting for orders. I just spent 10 minutes putting him at ease.

I clap my hands loudly. "**Steph**!"

She blushes completely red in two seconds. "Oh God, Les, I'm so sorry. I'm so, umph—"In her haste to run out the bathroom, she runs right into the doorjamb, overcorrects and hits the other. She's dropped the knife already but she's barefoot. She attempts to run out the bathroom again but overcorrects and slips. I dive just quickly enough to prevent her from falling on her ass on the tile floor. She rolls off me and pants, eyes tightly shut. I hop up, wrap a towel around my waist and bite my lip to keep from laughing.

"If you're attempting a retreat, Beautiful, it helps to open your eyes."

"You're naked." She's still attempting to run, well crawl, and I'm turning red at the effort of not laughing.

"I have a towel on. Don't move another step until you open your eyes."

"I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea. I'm pretty sure I want to go and–you have a towel on?" She opens her fingers and peeks. She relaxes when she spots the towel.

"Yeah. Would help him if you put some pants on."

She frowns, looks down, and blushes red again. I walk over, pick up the blade, and set it on the countertop out of her way. Beautiful has her eyes closed again so I grab a towel and wrap it around her waist before lifting her onto the countertop. God, her breasts are soft. Little Lester is dying for some attention. He's parting the towel trying to find the prize and Steph's shifting all over in my arms to avoid him.

Well, this couldn't get any more awkward. How could this get any worse?

You know what they say about not asking that question?

"Umm . . . Ranger, this isn't what it looks like."

Oh.

_Dios_.

No.

"Explain," hisses a very angry voice behind my shoulder. I feel the knife at my back, right above my kidney. Great. Perfect position to allow me to bleed out.

Silent approach. I hate my cousin sometimes. I should have sensed his presence anyway. "You explain, asshole. What are you doing here? Sneaking into my apartment with no advance warning? You didn't give me enough time to get her completely naked. And tonight's not group sex night. You leave."

The knife pricks. OUCH! Well, at least Steph is laughing.

"Oh for God's sake, Ranger! I heard an intruder and thought I was back in my apartment for a moment. I came to investigate. I forgot I was in a secure building and that Les was coming in tonight."

I'm looking at his face in the mirror. It's not placated. I'm the meat in a Beautiful-Ranger sandwich, not the bread, and this isn't where I want to be. His eyes shift back to me. Well, humor didn't work. Perhaps indignation will.

"OK, we'll discuss your absolutely shitty hello later. I reiterate: This is **my** apartment, not yours. Besides, I was trying to prevent further injury. She had," I look down, "what appears to be one of Hector's wickedly sharp blades and she was running into doorjambs and slipping on the tile. What would you do?"

A few heartbeats later, the pressure eases. Both Steph and I breathe sighs of relief.

"Nice to see you too, _Primo_. What are you doing here?"

"Crashing. Gotta follow up a lead in the Bronx in the morning, then over to Philly. I'm only here overnight."

He's taken Steph into his arms and is moving back toward the guest bedroom. Good.

"Les?" I look up. "Take care of that."

Asshole. Little Lester droops in disappointment while I head back to the shower.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

I'm not sure how to feel about Ranger's appearance. He's only here overnight? "Did you know I was here?"

"No."

Surprising. He usually always knows where I am.

"I couldn't reach Hector until a few moments ago. Otherwise, I might have known you were here." Gotta work on my blank face again.

"He must have been asleep. It was a condition of him coming."

Ranger nods. "So he is here." I nod. "Good. I need to talk to him." Ranger texts Hector. I frown. "It's not life or death. Since both he and Manny are here, that'll make my life easier. I have intel to discuss."

I slide the towel off and climb in the bed. No sex tonight. He's here at the wrong time.

"Doesn't matter. You're here, I'm here, Lester's killing his dick. I'm happy."

Gotta work on the blank face again. Maybe he's reading me because I'm not concentrating on it? I laugh, but the laughs taper off as I watch Ranger strip for bed. Damn period. Always showing up at the wrong time.

"Why attack Lester?"

Silence. I look at Ranger. His face is blank, but Hector's taught me to look in the eyes. Sometimes, you can get a clue there. Ranger's not giving away anything. _Sigh_.

"You aren't suggesting I'm having a torrid affair with Les, are you?"

That gets a small smile. "No. I trust you. I trust Les. I just didn't have any idea what was going on or if Les was being inappropriate. I needed answers." Ranger slides into the bed with me and pulls me into his arms. "Busy day tomorrow?"

"Don't know yet." I'm still considering his words and I decide to let this one go. I can see Hector doing the same thing.

"Update."

My nose wrinkles. That sounded like an order. "Manny found Javier a new strategist, so Les is here to enforce order and meet the guy. I'm here to back up both of them."

"Name?"

"Jorge Ortega."

"Shane?"

Then again, this is standard Ranger. Why use two words when one will do? "Bobby wants him fired. Armando is nervous down in Miami. Doesn't like the guy. I get frequent reports from him. He doesn't like his ideas. 'Not Ranger's standards' is what I hear all the time."

"Fire him."

"I want to, but I want to assess him myself first. If I do decide to fire him, Bobby said he and Les are flipping a coin for the right."

"Ask Bobby to do it. His 'exit interviews' are instructive."

"I know. I saw." I can feel the question. "I was here for Liam's."

"Brutal?"

"I sent a RangeMan to check he was still alive in his apartment two days later, just in case."

"And?"

"Alive. His mother and sister were there caring for him, and they were angry. Liam told them to shut up, it could have been worse."

That gets a smile. "Yeah. I was listening in. Bobby could have killed him."

"He came close."

I feel Ranger chuckle. "Anything else?"

"Les is here to negotiate the settlement with CombinedSecurities."

There's a moment of silence. "Explain."

"Liam was selling information to them. Bobby authorized the civil lawsuit and asked Manny to work with the DA on the criminal case."

"What's the number?"

"Dunno."

"Tell Les I said nothing under $150 million. Take the entire fucking company if you have to. Matter of fact …" Ranger rolls over in the bed and picks up the phone. Lester is apparently in his bedroom.

"YO!"

"Yo."

"Take the company."

"I plan to. You have a number in mind? I was thinking $100 million."

"$150 million and jail time." _Click._

Wow. "Are you sure you want to go that route?"

Ranger kisses my forehead. "At worst, we cripple them for years to come and send the CEO to prison. At best, we bankrupt the company, buy its assets, and Javier and Jorge are able to rebuild the branch with their clients and men. No matter what, no more losses for us."

I blink. That's brilliant. I'll tell Les in the morning. We lie in the dark, engrossed in our own thoughts, before Ranger speaks.

"Your period doesn't bother me."

"Not a chance, buster."

I can feel his smile. "I can give you an orgasm without being inside you."

"I'm sure. But I don't feel sexy and Lester is next door. And the men are under us."

"Sound proofing."

"No way. Are you angling for a blow job?"

"No. I was only thinking of you, but if you're offering, I won't turn one down."

I consider it. Ranger's like a jack-in-the-box on this mission. I don't know when I'll see him next.

I slide down the bed. An hour later, I'm chanting his name. He's right. He doesn't actually need to be inside me to give me an orgasm.

* * *

**Javier's POV**

This has already been the best week I've had in months as XO for NYC. My boss told me she supports my decisions, she approved of me hiring my best friend, and Les is coming for the first time in months. I swear, Stephanie Plum as CO is the best thing to ever happen to me. She called at 0600 to ask me to double-time it to the apartment for an important discussion. What now?

I walk in and stop cold. Ranger is sitting at the bar.

Les and Steph pat my back as they leave for the gym, and I desperately want to follow them. Ranger never gives any indication of his mood, good or bad, and this morning is no different.

"I haven't liked what I've heard so far. I need to know what happened here." He motions for me to take a seat at the bar. I sit, gather my thoughts, say a quick prayer, and start telling him everything I told Steph five weeks ago. I level about everything then finish with the information Diego and Manny dug up. Hector joins us halfway through, so I switch to Spanish to finish up. At the end, I look up and, for the very first time, I see an emotion on Ranger's face.

Pure rage.

I look over at Hector and he, too, looks pissed. I remind myself that I am largely in the clear. Well, I am with the CO and the rest of Leadership Core. Ranger might be the exception.

He nods at Hector, who leaves the apartment, then turns back to me.

"I don't know where or how to begin to apologize to you, Javier."

Fuck. Me. You could knock me over with a feather right now. An apology? From _**Ranger**_? I want to tape record the moment.

"You repeatedly called on me for help. I didn't heed your call. I left you here to handle it, thinking that you were being dramatic. It couldn't be that bad." A muscle in his jaw twitches and I can see he is holding himself back. "I was wrong, so very very wrong, and you paid the price."

All the while, he's been looking me dead in my eyes. I can see he is angry and remorseful.

"I don't know what to say to all this except I'm sorry. I am sorry, Javier." He shakes his head, and I am not sure what to think. It's silent for a few minutes before he continues. "I can promise you this: It will **never** happen again. Not just to you, but to any XO. I will never dismiss your calls for assistance again. This failure is mine and I must own it."

Ranger is running a hand through his hair in a frustrated motion, and I feel for him. He's running a deadly op and he's taken time from it to come apologize to me. I never expected that. It's the only thing I wanted and assumed I'd never get. I got an apology from **Ranger**.

"Sir?" He looks at me. "Thank you, sir."

He nods. "What do you need right now, Javier?"

"Most of the things I need Steph and Bobby have provided, sir. I have money, men, and strategists with a game plan. I talked to the CO yesterday and she's clear on my needs. Bobby and Lester are looking for a new liaison for me and we hired a new strategist yesterday. Once I have all the pieces in place, I'll be ready to bring the branch back better than ever."

I get a small smile. "We'll talk more when this op is over, but remember this, Javier: I placed **you** as the XO of NYC for a reason. I believe in your skills and abilities. I believe in your ability to fully examine issues and make the right decision. I trust your knowledge of NYC and the landscape here. I haven't done a good job of showing that lately, but since this branch was still limping along, you showed your strength even when you weren't getting backup or support. I'm proud." He claps me on the back and I smile.

"Show Steph your strengths. She'll back you as I would, as I should have all along."

* * *

**Lester's POV**

Today's Goals.

**1. Meet the new strategist for RM-NYC.**

Manny and Beautiful like him and have hired him, so I'm sure he's the right man for the job, but I want to assess him myself. At breakfast, Steph tells me that the Trenton guys are doing a full background but that he's Javier's childhood friend. Lost it all in the financial crisis but has a Columbia degree in Marketing and Finance. She's impressed by the degree and Javier's from NYU.

I shrugged. And? I have a degree from The George Washington U (International Affairs. Thanks US Military!). Bobby has a master's from University of Nebraska, courtesy of the military PA program. Tank's poli sci degree is from Tulane, and he didn't even need it as an NCO. Ranger finally finished his degree from Rutgers (Management), but only because he had to in order to enter OCS (and of course, he graduated magna to impress). Hell, Steph graduated (barely) from Douglass. Upper Management is full of degrees: Danny (Emory), Mark (Ohio State), Hal (Kansas), Armando (Florida), and Hector (NJIT). I'm sure if I keep thinking I'll come up with all the liaisons' and strategists' degrees too.

In other words, degrees, while nice, mean less to me than critical thinking skills, creativity, leadership, drive, enthusiasm, stamina; in short, all the things they can't teach you in college. At least, not from a book.

**2. Assess the men and the branch**

This is probably more important to me. I've reviewed Manny's notes about the branch and I'm interested to see how the men stack up. I almost want to pull each member of leadership onto the mats to assess their skills, just to ensure they can enforce SOPs and standards here. In fact, I think I probably will. I want to see what Manny means by 'undisciplined'. This is going to be an interesting week.

**3. Give Javier, Jorge, and the new liaison (if they've picked one) a copy of **_**The Prince**_**.**

I had to give Danny another point. While _**The Art of War**_ informs my critical thinking and tactical skills, _**Il Principio**_ is my favorite book on leadership. I plan to give all three men copies of each book. Forget the gossipy reads in today's bookstore. These are the classics, which is why they've stuck around for hundreds of years.

**4. Install more soundproofing between my bedrooms.**

Three showers in one night is two too many. And Ranger's a bastard. Just say it in English, man! If she ever learns that you tell her how you really feel in Spanish, you're a dead man.

* * *

Jorge Ortega is a man on a mission. He's determined to prove to everyone in the room that Javier and Steph made the right call in hiring him and he's determined to make sure I approve of him. He's also very tense, which makes me laugh mentally. Manny whispers that he understood the psychological intent of the lobby, so he's expecting me to test him. Nope. Nothing worse than expecting the test and finding it doesn't come. Besides, he understood the lobby. That's the test. He passed.

By noon, I'm tempted to tell him to calm down. I approve. He outlined the option he gave Javier yesterday, and I was impressed by his quick thinking, drive and enthusiasm. I'm watching the way he and Javi bounce ideas off each other and how they work together, and I can see that I was right in thinking Shane was the wrong person for Javi. He needs someone like this guy to push him along. Jorge is excitable and ready to get started; Javier is just barely holding his buddy back. I snort mentally; Jorge is reminding me of myself when we first started and Javier is playing the 'Ranger' role. No wonder Ranger started calling me '_Perrito'_ (puppy).

Case in point: He's already lined up lunch and dinner meetings with some of his old colleagues around the financial world to get the ground info needed for the business investigations unit. I'm impressed by his calendar. Steph is amazed by everything he's done in 12 hours.

"Not a problem, Steph. The markets open at 9:30 AM here, but London opens at 3AM. Hong Kong was open at 9:30PM. I know guys who were up at midnight, so I got the ball rolling."

I'm amused. He quickly learned that 'ma'am' was a banned word with Steph and he's been careful to use her name instead. Javi, Manny, and Diego are grinning. Those are contacts they never would have been able to make. Jorge made phone calls and set up meetings. He woke Javi in the middle of the night and they spent the night outlining options and defining what they think this offering should cover, including pricing schemes. He got Javi to make some decisions and anything they couldn't use he outlined for me and Steph to review. They both look dead on their feet, but he's ahead of the eight ball.

"You're lucky Manny is the man he is," Diego says, smiling. His face must be cracking. Diego is the strategist that amuses me most. He strives to _**be**_ Ranger. "Otherwise, you'd have no business cards. They won't arrive until tomorrow, but we put a rush job on them. We'll go with you and hand out ours until yours arrive."

Jorge smiles. "Great." He turns to Steph. "Would love to have you along, CO. You would be invaluable in helping start these discussions."

Steph frowns. "Me?"

"Yes."

She thinks about it and looks at me. I can think of only two possible reasons he'd want her there. "Why Steph?"

Jorge smiles. "The Managing Director, the head of the company, at the table? Invaluable. Shows we're serious about this offering and are interested in allowing them to be on the ground floor. You would also be a great addition, sir. As a partner and member of the board, it's your kind of experience we're touting in this new endeavor."

Excellent answer! The other option: Steph's a pretty woman and it would be good to have a pretty face for the marks to look at. If he'd gone anywhere near that, I might have fired him. Instead, he focused on her position and importance. Good.

The first lunch takes place two days later at Sophie's. Edward Jones (yes, yes, he's aware of all the jokes) is meeting us and is interested in the business investigations group. He works for a major bank (very major), and the management is extremely embarrassed by some of the business partners they have taken on and their assets. Unfortunately, there was no way to get info on these guys in a timely fashion. His bosses are just the kind of clients we're looking for in this kind of venture.

"I mean, we later find out that this guy is the second cousin of a strong man and is financially tied up with him." Jones is working his way through his Cuban sandwich. Steph bowed out of this one, saying she wanted to investigate something else. "Complete disaster. Now we're trying to figure out how to spin him off, but he's stuck to us. We need his contacts but we don't want him."

"What country?" I ask. He supplies the answer and I'm amused. I'm thinking I know exactly who he's speaking of and, if I'm right, the only way his bank gets loose is with a major check. Or if their new partner gets a bullet in the brain.

Yeah, this is the sort of intel we can sell. I could've given them that info in 20 minutes. Thanks US military!

"Well, the ability to avoid that sort of public relations situation is exactly what RangeMan would like to offer you and your employer. We have and maintain contacts worldwide. Our company is filled with men of various backgrounds and they're all adept at obtaining tightly held information with minimal fuss." I sit back and smile. "For example, what I can tell you about your target is that he smokes Cubans he obtains illegally through a contact in Venezuela. He has a wife and three kids, but his illegitimate son just entered high school in Bolivia and his newest mistress is Estonian. I know that his cousin hates him but relies on him for information and that his next move will be to threaten you with a public relations nightmare unless you give him voting rights."

Throughout this little speech, Jones has gotten paler and paler. By the time I get to the threats, he's white. "How . . . how . . . do you know that?"

He's one of my enemies, in my folder. If this experience helps sell us throughout Wall Street, perfect. Jorge has a blank face (good man) but his eyes suggest he's ready to pop in happiness. "I took a moment to look at your leadership and board before this meeting. The moment his name popped up, I recognized it. You aren't his first mark and you won't be his last. He just threaten you for the voting rights?"

Jones nods. I smile and slide the prospectus towards him. Nice work by Jorge and Javier. It's glossy and detailed.

"Let's discuss contracts and we'll help you and your employer extricate yourselves."

* * *

By the time we get to lunch on Monday, Wall Street tycoons are calling us. We have enough work for the business investigations department to handle for the next two months. We thought it would take that long to get the information needed to market this option but the right man, in the right position, can make things happen.

Jorge Ortega is a keeper, but I'm not telling him yet. Pass the standards, buddy, and you and Manny could be my new best friends. Regardless, Jorge is thrilled.

"Shit! I hated some of these bastards for laughing at me, but watching them sign multi-million dollar deals makes up for every snigger and joke." He grins. "I have to work hard not to be smug."

I laugh. I like him. Javier and Jorge took me around their old neighborhood over the weekend (Tremont?! Holy shit! I felt under armed.) and we had dinner and just hung out. I know Ranger likes to keep a certain reserve between him and the men, but right now, Javier needs support more. Steph told me the story about Jorge's fall from grace. Both of these guys need to know that someone is standing behind them, ready to catch them. They need to know that I won't hesitate from now on, that my support is absolute. They've had some rough years and stuck by each other. I need to ensure they know I'm standing behind them both.

I think it's working. Javier and Jorge bounce ideas off me all week. I can see why Steph immediately hired Jorge and it was a good call. Now that he understands what he's supposed to do, he's brimming with ideas. Manny and Diego can't write notes fast enough and watching all four of them is like watching a musician's jam session. Adam and Steph just laugh listening to them. We've both told them to write everything down, get the core ideas up and running first and then we'll pilot the new ones. They're all excited about the possibilities.

Javier has been an entirely different man since last Tuesday. I'm not sure what Ranger said to him, but Javier is walking around like a man minus two tons of worry and frustration. I know Ranger, so I hesitate to say he apologized but that's all I can think of. Ranger must have apologized and that's like rain in the Sahara: rare enough to be life changing.

In any case, whatever Ranger said, I took Javi out separately and apologized to him. This is my home branch and he needed to hear that from me. He needed to know I count this as a personal failure of my own. I should never fail in keeping an eye on any branch under my review and each XO (even Mark, fuckity fuck fuck) should feel comfortable talking to me. I've done some soul searching of my own and I haven't liked what I've had to own. I'm determined to never let this happen again.

I'm thinking that if Ranger did apologize, then the only person left is Tank and I know Tank plans to apologize. As Chief XO, he took the near collapse here in NYC hard also, but for more personal reasons. Tank was a Staff Sergeant in the Army, the man in charge of developing and supporting men. If the XO doesn't feel comfortable turning to the Chief XO for help and support, it means something is wrong. As a Staff Sergeant, Tank took the NYC failure as a reminder that his job is to develop men, not make it uncomfortable for them to talk to him. I bought him another set of cold compresses for all the talking he's going to have to do.

Steph catches me in my office Wednesday morning and closes the door. I sit back and smile.

"First thing: New decorator!"

I laugh long and hard. "No way, Beautiful. There's a reason this place is decorated this way."

"Yeah, I know. Manny explained the whole psyop angle to me." She blows out a breath and glares at me. "It sucks. I'm afraid of sitting in any chair in this office for fear that I won't be able to get up."

Ka-Ching! Plus, the chairs are all low slung to give the appearance of comfort but in actuality leave a negotiator at least a half a head shorter than me, unless he has a really long torso.

"Compromise?" She wrinkles her nose and waits. "Different furniture in the Core Team's offices. We'll move my psyop furniture into other rooms."

"Done! Just get it out of any office I might have to be in!"

I grin and motion for her to sit. The chair in front of me is comfortable. She sits, tests it out and smiles.

"OK, next thing. I'm thinking we need to do this every six months. Let's get all the strategists together for a week and let them bounce ideas off each other," she says.

I grin. "I'm in complete agreement. I was thinking it was like watching a musician's jam session, the way Manny, Diego, and Jorge bounced ideas off each other. I'm curious to see what Pat might come up with. I've long thought he was the most innovative strategist in the company, and if he and Chase had been a part of that session today," I sit back and whistle, "we'd have ideas for the next five years lined up."

"Question."

"Hit me."

"I would but I'm afraid of knocking something loose."

I grin. This is more like it. Beautiful's been kinda moody all week. I'm chalking it up to a visitor (or the other).

"Shane."

That wipes the smile off my face. "Demotion is certain. Exit interview is a possible."

She cringes, but Bobby and I made that decision after he returned from conducting Liam's. Tank agreed. Besides, he hasn't had any good ideas for Miami and Armando is desperate to be rid of him. Armando tells Tank that Diego is pitching in from NYC and giving him more ideas to consider based on his NYC work. They've cut Shane out completely; Diego had already implemented all the bodyguard ideas Shane had and Armando says he can't implement the ideas Diego is passing back effectively, so it really showed his weaknesses. He has nothing to offer.

Beautiful shrugs. "If we demote him, which branch does he go to? Javier refuses to allow his return to NYC."

"I'm headed to Miami after this. I'll discuss it with him there. So, your vote is demotion?"

"Give him another month. I promised him a quarter, so let's see what he comes up with. He wasn't engaged in sabotage. He had no respect for the leadership, so if you take him to the mats, work it out for insubordination. Otherwise, he was betrayed just as Javi was. Liam sunk his ideas and thwarted him in bids. What little he was able to do was sunk by the liaison."

I consider this, then nod. Beautiful's right. I'll give him another month because she gave him her word. After that, I'll take him to San Antonio with me. That way I'll be able to thrash him on the mats daily.

Steph grins. I know that grin. She's up to something.

"Where have you been? You haven't exactly been around."

"Hector and I went out with the men. I wanted to see what was really going on with our Bonds Enforcement group."

Javier did mention dropping that, and I told him that if he truly wanted to do that he needed to be ready to justify that to Ranger. I'm on the fence about it.

"Hec wasn't exactly thrilled. He termed that 'field work'." Steph makes a face and I smirk. I term it field work too, and she hasn't been cleared yet but I watched her and Sarah. Steph's getting there quickly. I think six months was the right call. Sarah's good and Steph's motivated.

"I learned a few things. One, Javier may be right. There's a thousand bounty hunters in this city and they're all as good as RangeMan. I went out with Mack on Monday. He had a brand new file. He attended the Trenton workshop, the first one."

I sit up. That workshop made the men sit up and notice their CO in a new light. "Before you continue, exactly what were you doing while they chased the skip?" I have no worries. If Hector was along for the ride, she was completely protected.

She scowls. "I sat in the car, OK? Hector threatened to handcuff me to the door if I didn't sit nicely." My blank face is getting a workout. I can't see Hector doing that, but he would not have allowed her to chase the skip and no amount of whining would have changed his mind. "I watched Mack work the file. He had sight on the guy in 24 hours and we went after him."

I chuckle. "Hector's been saying something about you catching a skip by slamming a car door in his face." Steph blushes completely red and I howl. Somehow I _knew_ there was more to the story.

"Hector's a dead man. Anyway, another agent found him just as fast, but we just barely got him first. The second day it was the same thing. They got to the skip just as another agent did. We won the tug of war but, again, it was a near miss on that one and the guys weren't doing anything wrong as far as I could see."

I see her point. Too many close calls for this work.

"So, I can see Javier's point. Too many people in this field here in NYC. In Trenton, it was just me, Jeanne Ellen and RangeMan. Perfect mix. Here, it's too crowded and bonds enforcement only makes up 10% of their budget. If they can make the new offerings work, I think we should cut bonds enforcement loose."

"You feel comfortable doing that?"

Steph nods. "Yeah. Javier called that one right. He has a good idea of what's going to work here and what won't, and he's right. We're good, but we could use the men for other things," she grins, "like counter surveillance. I think Jorge was right about the bodyguards. Everyone in NYC has two and three bodyguards because they need that many to effectively guard their client. What if RangeMan offered the bodyguards plus counter surveillance? That would be a winner and our niche. It markets right back to the financial contacts Jorge already has and it's another use for the investigations guys. Another service we can spread through Wall Street, that and the hospitality services for major events here."

I lean back and consider it. It's a great option. Both are. I smile.

"I had another idea."

"You're thinking too much. Keep this up and I'll make **you** a strategist."

Steph laughs but I'm serious. We should've found a way to blackmail her into the company long ago. I need to send Thomas Mann a fruit basket. Well, after I break his leg for breaking hers.

"Sarah got a call from an old client Friday. I'm telling you, too many things are just lining up. This client lives in Westchester County?" She shrugs and attempts to raise an eyebrow.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. "North of here. Expensive area."

Steph shrugs. "Well, this old client wants to train for Ms. Universe again and since Sarah thinks I'll clear standard in another month or two, she's lining up prospects. Anyway, this woman wants to start in three months."

"And?"

"Well, if we're going to hire NYC RangeMen, bring them in on probation and work to get them up to our standards, we need to organize that. Someone will need to assess them and get a fitness plan together."

I lean forward in my chair. I see where she's going and I like it. "So you're thinking about offering Sarah another contract to work with the NYC RangeMen to get them up to physical standards?"

She nods. "Yeah. I mean, she got me close to the minimum in four months. I think. No one tells me how close I am but, I mean, if I didn't have to move carefully on the leg, I'd probably have cleared minimums by now. She's good, and we need someone we know and who is trustworthy. If she can get the exercise-hating CO up to standards on a broken leg in six months . . ." she shrugs and smiles, "what could she do with RangeMen who've never had to make physical standards before? She can work with that client and with us too."

Insane. How much am I going to have to pay Steph to stay?


	49. The Info on the Ground

**A/N: As a part of my job as a consultant, I've spent a lot of time in NJ (Newark/New Brunswick & the Trenton/Princeton area!) and NYC (Bronx, Manhattan, Queens). I also spent time in NYC as a child, so I know and understand the language, the 'patois' so to speak. The scene below contains foul language and patois, but there's no way I could write this scene and sound 'real' without it (actually, I cleaned it up as much as I could). Read at your own risk.**

* * *

**Chapter 49: The Info on the Ground**

**Steph's POV—Monday**

I'm curious about Javier's desire to get rid of Bonds Enforcement. It's a money maker all over the company, a backbone to every other branch. I checked the figures; at every other branch, it accounts for a solid 20% of their revenue, if not more. Here in NYC it's 10%. I'm wondering if that's why NYC was having so many problems, but I'm also curious about the fact that neither Manny nor Diego mentioned this as a problem. I want to know more, so I tell Hector I want to shadow Mack, the head of Client Services, for a day to learn more. Hector is not happy.

"That's field work, _Angelita_."

I sigh. "I don't want to chase skips, Hector …OK, well I do, but not today. I want to learn more, so I want to ride along. I promise I won't chase the skip."

Hector looks at me pityingly. "Does my face have 'stupid' written on it?" I scowl. "_Angelita_, one of your best and worst qualities is the fact that you will throw yourself into danger to protect another. It worries me. If anything goes wrong on this little 'ride-a-long', Ranger will have my balls mounted."

This is the first time I've ever heard Hector express any fear of Ranger. I consider this.

"I promise. I won't chase the skip. Besides, your shoulder is still healing. If I got into trouble, you'd injure yourself trying to save me."

Hector scowled at my mention of his shoulder then sighed. "OK. I will trust my partner. I will hold you to your promise. You will **not** chase the skip." He looked at me closely. "If I think, for one minute, that you will, I will handcuff you to the car door. _Comprende_?"

I nod. I know he doesn't mean it. Hector's still pissed Joe cuffed me to my shower rod ('Did he even consider how long it might take for you to get free? That maybe you didn't have a phone nearby? That it might put your life in danger?' He shook his head. 'And you continued to date that ass'. I gave Hector the silent treatment for a few hours for that statement.), so he would never do that. But I know that if he threatened that, he's not joking.

I will **not** chase the skip.

* * *

Mack is the head of Bonds Enforcement and Client Services. It hasn't been a problem before now, because of the constant bleeding in the branch, but he tells me that he'll have to divide the work soon. Client Services is ready for its own head, and he hates being in front of clients.

"Yo, I mean, yo, I don't sound like Javi or none of them, ya dig?" he says. We're off to the Bronx to chase a skip he got the file on yesterday. "They sound all educated and shit. I sound like what I am, hood."

I nod. What else can I say?

"So, yo, CO, what you wanna rap about, Boss Lady? I'm all ears."

Hector told me to be prepared to ask him to translate 'Brooklyn' into standard English. I get the feeling he's going to have to translate a lot. Mack's speech is pure rap song.

"I want to know more about Javi. Who he is as a leader, how the men see him. What you tell me will not be repeated, so I want you to be open and frank. Tell me everything, good and bad."

Mack is silent for a few minutes before he speaks.

"Yo, to understand Javi, man, I gotta tell you what it was like before and after. Ya dig? Before you sent Manny and Diego and after. Man, before you sent them, we couldn't understand this man, ya feel me? He wouldn't make moves. He wouldn't do shit. You could give him a great idea and he'd sit and pick at it all fuckin' day. Drove us insane. I thought about shankin' him, just to get someone new in the branch."

I hide a smile. I know that feeling. Now, what does 'shankin'' mean? Is that like stabbing?

"Man, it would be worse after Lester would visit. We look at Lester here like a fucking god, yo. He spoke the language, yo, could be street. We knew he wasn't no street hustler, but he's deadly and we understood and respected that shit. Javi, man, Javi was white bread. No street skills, couldn't fight. All proper and shit. We used to joke he ironed and starched his boxers. Called him 'Carlton' behind his back."

OK, that's funny. I _think_ he means Fresh Prince of Bel-Air Carlton. I laugh quietly.

"Exactly. So, yo, Les would come visit and he and Javi would be holed up for hours. Every fuckin' time we thought Lester was finally gonna fire his ass. And every fuckin time, Les left him in place. We couldn't understand that shit. Why?"

This is exactly the information I want to know. I think.

"Liam and Shane, they would go bat-shit crazy. Javi was so wrapped up in some shit in his office that he never heard that shit. Man, knowing what I know now, I wish I'd known Liam was settin' him up for a fall. I'da shanked his ass. Liam would whine all over the branch about Javi, tore him down, busted his ass in front of the men. I couldn't say shit to him because he'd take my ass to the mats and Imma tell you, that was always a draw. He couldn't bust me but I couldn't bust him, so we kinda had a nod thing going, yo. Don't fuck wit me, I won't fuck wit you."

I nod. OK. I feel like I'm listening to a rap song. I need that rap cheat sheet. Worse? I know Mack's attempting to clean it up for me.

"So anyway, I finally told Javi, like eight months ago, that Liam and Shane were dogging him. That they dropped mad disrespect on him. He needed to do something about that. And I understood and I knew he wasn't gonna do shit. That was his leadership. If nothing else, in this branch, we did respect that Javi was mad loyal. He went to bat. He listened to us. But you wasn't gonna bust his leadership team. That got an automatic 'Fuck You'."

That's what Manny said. OK. We cross into the Bronx and Hector kicks back in the passenger seat. I can tell he's listening closely.

"So when the news came out that Shane was headed to Miami and you was sending Manny and Diego here, we got hopeful. Maybe Javi was on his way out too. We started watching, peepin everyone's moves. And what we saw shocked us."

I lean forward, curious now. Hector frowns, so I lean back a little. Mack smiles.

"Yo, this is still New York, Boss Lady. Stay back in case I gotta slam brakes. I'ma speak where you can hear me."

I laugh and sit back. "OK. Sorry. Go ahead."

"So, we realized that Manny and Diego, they didn't play the disrespect game when it came to Javi. Diego took my ass to the mats the first time I huffed and complained in a meeting cuz I was frustrated with Javi. First time I **ever** got my ass broke on the mats. That shit shamed me."

Mack swallows hard and takes a drink of water. So do I.

"Afterwards, Manny comes to talk to me. Asks me to tell him what I know about Javi. I think about it and I realize for the first time I don't know shit about the man who leads me. Manny sits back, tells me what he's learned about Javi so far. And man, Imma tell you, I wasn't ready to hear that shit."

Mack shakes his head and smiles.

"Javi grew up in the Bronx, Tremont, and that area is grimy. As a kid, you couldn't pay me to fuck with anyone from Tremont and even now, I go to Tremont with three guns. I stayed strapped 'round there and this is where that man grew up. So I'm shocked as shit to hear this but it also explains how Javi could always tip me to the vibe on the streets. If we had a Bronx skip, we took it to Javi. Then he tells me that Javi is dominicano, Dominican, from way back. And I'm dominicano. I never knew.

Javi was that boy your grandma would tell you about, that rare homie that made it out, made good, did something with his life and I realize that I'm embarrassed I don't know this about the man. His folk kept him out the streets, made him study, made him go to college. Meanwhile, my peeps, I mean, mi Mami cared but she was working two jobs to raise us. So I did what you wasn't supposed to do. I hooked up with street hustlers, repped my flag and started hustlin' till I got locked up. When I got out, I didn't want to go back in. Didn't want my sons to have to try to touch me through bulletproof glass.

I didn't know that Javi's grandma and my grandma, they know each other. That's how I got hired here. The homie never said nuthin', just hired me on and I was so grateful to have a job that I was loyal to RangeMan. If I'd know Javi was responsible for getting me hired here, I don't know. I don't know that I'd ever have let him be dissed like that. But I didn't know and when Manny told me that shit, man, I felt shamed again."

I have tears in my eyes hearing this. Hector silently passes me his handkerchief. We're passing the NYC Botanical Gardens. I make a quick note to beg Hector to take me back there.

"So Manny asks me to prove that we need an increase in men for Bonds Enforcement, the same shit I was huffing about in the meeting. So I pull the info and show him what I got and Manny tells me I ain't got shit. I need to **prove** that we need more men and to prove it I need numbers. I need to show Javi how many skips we get, how long it takes to get them, how much money we make and how much money it takes to chase one down. And I'm looking at Manny like 'what the fuck, man?' and he's like, anybody can talk that yak yak but you gotta prove it. Do the math, prove what you showin me.

So I take the weekend and I do the math. Manny and Diego are mad cool cuz they come to my apartment, show me how to take the information I got and turn it into info that Javi can move on. And what do I find? We breakin' even in Bonds Enforcement. This shit don't pay. We can't grow it because all the bondsmen in NYC, they got bounty hunters. The moment you get a new man, he already got someone lined up. So there's no growth in this. Meanwhile, there's an assload of bounty hunters in this city. Every time we get a skip, we racing against the clock to get him because it might be me and three other guys all searching for him. So far from proving I'm right, we prove I'm wrong as hell."

I lean back. Bingo! That's the info I need. This is why Javier wants to drop it. I want to see those numbers. And I'm proud I'm following his speech. Haven't needed a translation yet but I will have to think about this stuff again tonight. If Mack had the right beat, this _could_ be a rap song.

"And I'm looking at Manny and Diego and I'm asking, yo, why ya'll do this? And they tell me that I'm the next layer of management under them. I need to understand how we do **business **because they depend on me and what I know, the info on the ground, to help Javi make decisions. When I was hustlin in the streets, I did 'street math' and that's all well and good. Street math, corporate math, same damn thing. So I can take the 'street math' I know and use it to help Javi make decisions. They tell me that Javi is a man who likes his numbers. Show him numbers and proof and he'll move. You just can't talk that yak yak at him and expect him to do some shit.

So that's what I do. I take the numbers for all our services and I run 'em. I go to Javi and I show him where we can make major bank in 'Redecorating' and armed security. Show him the numbers, the requests we're getting, and the contracts I'm holding and for the first time, I watch this man make quick decisions. I put numbers and evidence in front of his face, he takes a look and he moves. Manny and Diego are nodding like yeah, that's what up."

We've reached the destination and Mack pulls over. He and Hector flip the visors down and take the RangeMan 'surveillance' position.

"So, I'm starting to feel this man, ya dig? If you can **prove** what you say, he supports you, he listens. Just don't bring him some bullshit. Prove it. So I'm feeling good, feeling like OK, I can work with Javi. Then Bobby shows up for the ass whooping to end all ass whoopings."

I laugh. I can see the guys smile.

"Man, watching that beat down? Mad respect for the Doc. That shit looked painful and I was happy as hell. Liam was finally getting his, but it's what Bobby was saying while he beat the shit outta that man that turned the branch around. We didn't realize Javi took it to that level. That he made moves to make sure we could support our families. That that was what drove his decisions. It made every man in the branch feel like shit. I mean, we'd all joked on this man for years, called him 'white bread' and 'Carlton' and just dissed him and he's working to ensure we got formula for the baby and money for the rent. That man respected us more than we respected him. That shit was raw. It was real. And you got one of the big bosses here to say that shit. And, I don't know? I guess because it was Bobby, we took it serious. Bobby is the big boss we know least about, right? Bobby is a mystery. We know Lester cuz he's here enough. We know this is home base for him. We see Ranger, Tank sometimes, but we don't see Bobby unless it's time for physicals.

So to hear Bobby, the Doc, say that he stands behind Javi, that he's feeling ready to dish out another few of them ass whoopings, every man understood immediately what he **wasn't** saying. That Javier was trustworthy. He was loyal. He did what was right. The man was worthy of respect and we were gonna give it to him or Leadership Core might start handing out the ass whoopings on a regular. Fuck Manny and Diego. Bobby was not to be fucked with."

Mack grins and turns around. "That was also the day you got mad respect, Boss Lady."

I'm stunned. "Me? What did I do?"

Mack turns back around and laughs. "You mean aside from crushing Liam's nuts?" We laugh. "I mean, you was already getting mad respect cuz you sent Manny and Diego here and got rid of Shane. But man, when you yelled at Liam to get his ass on the mats, every man was wondering what yo' mat skills was like cuz you was hollering like you might take his ass down yourself."

I'm laughing so hard I start crying. I was pissed about having to be there at 5 a.m. and leaving Hector in Trenton. Having to actually **look** at the reason I wasn't by Hector's side, forcing him to rest and relax, just pissed me off to no end. If not for Maria's presence in Trenton, I might have sprayed Liam with mace. Hector is really working to hide his smile.

"Then you said you stood behind Javi. That you were there to make sure we understood that he did what was right. And that you wanted us to prove to the rest of the company that we was major. That NYC was not to be fucked with. I mean, we got so used to being ignored, to being last, that to hear management say go fuck 'em? Big shit. Every man went back to his desk thinking about what to do. I got assloads of ideas from the men that day about things we could do."

I'm smiling hearing this. I'm also looking around out the window. Lots of five and six story buildings decorated in very colorful and _interesting_ graffiti, dark alleys, and young men standing around in groups. This is a scary looking area and it's daytime. I stand out here. I think I'll stay in the car.

"So, when you and the Doc leave, I go speak to Javi. Me and him, one and one, we hit a restaurant and we rap honest. I tell him that I was sorry for not supporting him like I should have. I put word out in Client Services: disrespect the XO and Imma take yo ass to the mats right after he does and it **will** be major."

Mack leans forward, stares intently, then shakes his head and leans back. He takes a sip of water and scans the area. I see him look at Hector then nod towards another car. After a moment, Hector nods too. I look. I don't see anything.

"I ask him why he never told me I got my job on the grandma hook-up." I giggle and Mack smiles. "He tells me that there was two reasons. One, I got hired because I wanted to make a change and I had skills he could use. I was done with street life and I was ready for something new. Two, I mean, I got my job through my grandma." Mack shakes his head and grimaces. "He was like, could you have looked me in the face and felt like a man knowing that? That your granny hooked you up? And I realize he's right. Again, that man let me have my pride and I've been dogging him."

Men and their pride. Geez. Then again, I blackmailed my cousin with his kinky sex life. I'm still trying to figure out what they spotted.

"Yo, I can speak for Client Services. We see Javi different now. He's gaining respect. I told 'em, don't rap to him unless you can prove what you're saying. Don't go talking that yak yak to him. Take him numbers and proof. And now that the men know his standard, the frustration is gone, I think. Like, Jose went to him with the numbers for bodyguards cuz he don't think we down and out in that and Javi looked at it and said he'd think about it. So Jose brought me the numbers and we looked at 'em and I said I agreed with Javi. It was looking like a 50-50 shot on that. If Jose could improve the odds, Javi might look at it again. It was that kind of stuff that we was missing before."

"So, you guys didn't understand how Javi made his decisions? You weren't sure of his standards?" I still don't get the thing with the car. Is the skip in the car?

Mack snorts. "Fuck not being sure. We simply didn't know. It was a complete mystery. I told Javi that the single biggest thing that helped his rep was us finally getting an idea of how he made his decisions. He nodded and three days later, we have a little workshop. Management and anyone that wants to attend. He shows us how to do the math for this 'pipeline' stuff and we start understanding how he makes the decisions. It's bold and upfront now. And, Imma tell you, Boss, street hustlers understand math."

I frown. Huh? Mack smiles.

"When you spend your life converting pounds to kilos, dividing, multiplying, and marketing, you understand numbers. That was the funniest shit in that workshop." He starts laughing hard, but I notice he still has his eye on the streets. "Javi would show us the numbers and every man would get confused. I'd put 'crack' numbers next to it and it made total sense."

I laugh. That's hilarious. I can see Hector hiding another smile.

"Yeah, exactly. Fucked up but that's how Manny and Diego helped me make sense of it. Like I said, 'street math'. A lot of us good in that. There are men in this branch that understand complex mathematical equations, and can do that shit in their heads, as long as you put 'crack' numbers next to it. So anyway, now we get it. It makes sense. And Javi's open with us about it. He sends us a weekly report with the numbers, with the 'pipeline'. We understand where we're making bank and it's started a competition within the branch. Every department is trying to make bank. Redecorating vs. Bonds Enforcement vs. Monitoring and so forth. Every man is hustling for those contracts."

I nod. That's exactly what I hoped would happen. So, that's something else to note: Javi is open with his men about the situation and now that they understand, they're trying to improve the numbers. Each man understands how he's responsible for the bottom line. Mack's still scanning the street.

"So yeah, I'd say the man's reputation has improved and I don't really see where he's made big changes since you sent Manny and Diego here. He's just being more open with us and showing us how we each make a difference to the bottom line." Mack looks forward intently and frowns. "OK, here's our boy. Boss, please stay in the car. This skip is known for shankin' and if you get hurt, that's my ass with Hector here."

Hector is pulling out his knives and preparing to move. I tap him lightly and point to his shoulder, frowning. He nods and points to Mack, who nods.

"He's just acting as my backup, Boss. I shouldn't need him but if I do, his job is to get you out of here. Fuck me."

Hector and Mack exit the car and cross the street. Hector stands across the street parallel to the SUV while Mack circles around behind him and starts trailing the guy at a discreet distance back toward our car. At the same time, another man gets out of his car and heads toward the skip. Damn, that's what Mack and Hector spotted, another BEA. How did they figure it out? The skip turns, sees the other guy trailing him and starts to run. Mack and the other guy give chase with Mack in the lead. The skip crosses the street through traffic at a dead run. He's almost at the sidewalk when I fling the door open.

_Crash!_

Right into the door. I grin. I caught the skip without getting out of the car. Mack doubles over in laughter as he reaches me, and I get out of the car and stand over the skip, but well out of arm's reach. The other BEA is still moving toward me so I pull the gun.

"Nice try, dude, but he's mine."

I have one foot on the skip's leg and my gun at my side. The BEA looks at me and then behind me.

No need to ask. I'm sure Hector has both knives out.

Mack handcuffs the skip and secures him inside the SUV. He opens the passenger door for me and I hop in. Hector climbs in the back.

"Imma sue! Assault! That shit wasn't cool!"

"Hey! It's not my fault you ran into an open door," I reply. "You should watch where you're going."

Mack slides his hand to me and I slap it.

Yeah, I'm still bad ass. Even if Hector won't let me _chase_ the skip.

* * *

**Hector's POV—Friday.**

I'm dying of laughter inside. Hal's gonna have a fit.

It's been another good trip. _Angelita_ spent time with the men, listening to their concerns and letting them show off for her. As a result, like the Atlanta men, the NYC men love the CO. She listens to them. She does ride-alongs (which still make me nervous) to see what they do and she clearly supports the XO and the new strategist.

It's clear that the strategist and the men are still trying to find their relationship, but with Mack easing the way, it's happening pretty smoothly. Jorge agreed to take over as the head of Client Services and gave Mack a new title, Head of Security Administration. Jorge can sell high end services while Mack takes over the more 'active' street services. The men got quiet when they found out he was also from Tremont. Lester said he felt under armed there so I want to see this place. Les **never** feels under armed anywhere.

It's also clear that Javi is in control of his branch again. Mack was right; now that they see that the XO is working on their behalf, the men support and back him. Every man considers it his duty to come up with new ideas for the XO to consider. They're giving Javi tips on more active stuff and they make sure they approach him with facts and figures. Lester and _Angelita_ gave Javi a baseline: if he's been considering it for 5 days or it's under $500K, he can move on the information he has. Anything higher and he's free to call them for a judgment. He's relieved to have a standard to move on and he's made lots of decisions in the past two weeks.

Best thing _Angelita_ did? Admitted she too was in training. The men wanted to take her to get a slice since she was in Brooklyn and she told them that she had to meet RangeMan standards first, temporarily forgetting the five she already put away. The men who are being hired now realize that there's no shame in not already knowing this, as long as they're willing to put in work, like the CO, to learn. So the new NYC men and the existing ones are supporting each other, helping the new men make the goals. To thank her, the men found lots of vegetarian restaurants to take her to. She's still looking at falafels weird, but hummus went over OK. I told the men not to tell her it was beans.

Nate's hiring blitz in Atlanta means that I can spare six men for the business investigations unit here in NYC. _Angelita_ and Lester spent time looking for an apartment building they could rent to house the men. Thanks to the new Barclay Center, everything in this area is getting costly, but they found something nice. Lester will close the deal on a six month lease of 10 apartments close to the office next week.

This afternoon, before we left, the NYC RangeMen asked to speak to the CO before she left. They were all gathered in Conference 3, the biggest conference room, when she arrived.

Each man stood at attention as _Angelita_ walked in. She grinned. "Stand down."

The men laughed and Javier motioned to Mack. I stood next to Lester, whose lips were twitching.

"Yo, Boss Lady, we wanted to let you know that we appreciate you coming to see us these past two weeks. We know this ain't our review, but still, we think you major. So," he pulled a shopping bag from behind his chair. _Angelita_ began to laugh, "we decided that you need to look major. You need to rep major. And since there's no city in this country more major than the NYC—"

"**BROOKLYN!**" The men yelled. Les, Javi, Jorge and I turned red trying not to laugh. _Angelita_ collapsed in a chair laughing. Mack grinned.

"You need swag. Basic black won't do for someone as major as you. So, we got you major gear. RM-NYC, of course." He started pulling items from the bag. "You need the hat, the Ray-bans, the T-Shirts, and the pants. You gotta rep major. So, we made sure that the next time you come visit us here in the NYC, for our review, you ballin' just like us."

The NYC RangeMen looked at me warily, but it didn't stop them from hugging the CO. Mack fixed her hair into a ponytail, stuck the hat on her head and handed her the sunglasses.

"OK, that's a good start. Now you starting to look like the shot caller."

_Angelita_ finally stopped laughing and looked at Mack. "Just so we're clear, what's major?"

"Fierce. Bad, awesome, the best. You told us to show the company that NYC is not to be fucked with and Javi had some good news for us this morning."

Javier turned to _Angelita_. "Since you sent Manny and Diego to the branch, we've been able to show consistent growth week to week. In the past seven weeks, this branch has been able to stabilize itself and we've gone from being in the shitter to nearly breaking even. I'd say three more months and Mark might need to start worrying."

I was glad my blank face was in place. Damn! They're doing that well? _Angelita_ looked completely astonished.

"Are you serious? We're doing that well?"

"Yes ma'am, boss," Mack replied. _Angelita's_ entire face scrunched at the word ma'am and he grinned. "Sorry. We heard that was one of your words. Anyway, yeah, we're coming back and fast. Javi and Jorge are major, they got ideas and the big money contacts, and we floating up everything we can think of." He grinned and leaned closer. "Look Boss Lady, don't come back till the end of the year. We wanna blow the review out the water. You gave us what we needed to do it. Now give us some time to truly prove it."

"**HUA!**" The men replied, grinning.

_Angelita_ laughed, took the bags, and left the room. She returned wearing the T-Shirt, the sunglasses, and the hat.

Hal's literally going to burst a blood vessel. The Trenton men **will** riot.

* * *

**Hal's POV**

Sis has finally arrived, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Gone from my eyesight for two weeks and she returns in one piece.

Thank you, Lord. I can call Tank the moment she hits 7 and tell him she's safely home again.

What is she wearing?

Oh, please don't tell me she did it again?

AGAIN? Seriously? **Again**?

**She came home in Javi's swag! Traitor!**

Clearly the monitor duty had no effect and she's the CO. I can't actually 'punish' her. Damn.

Steph walks toward me with a sheepish look on her face. Hector is openly grinning.

"Hi Hal."

"Hi Sis."

"How is everything? Nothing blew up in my absence, right?" She has this naughty look on her face now. Good. She knows she's done wrong.

"Status normal. What are you wearing?"

She looks down at the T-shirt in fake surprise. "Oh, this? This is a RM-NYC T-shirt. The New York men gave it to me. They want me to rep the branch when I come back for the review."

She's not reviewing them for months. You mean I gotta let Javi's swag occupy precious space **anywhere** in my building? Grrr…

The garage door behind me opens and I look. Ram, Junior, Woody, Zip, Zero, Binkie, Eddie, Caesar, and a bunch more men have joined us in the garage. All look as disgruntled as I feel. Manny and I **will** have words later. He should have stopped this.

Sis sighs. "OK, yes, I have on NYC swag."

Silence. We are not happy men. Steph's ours! **Ours!** We'll share but you have to return her in the same condition we sent her out. Meaning, minus **your** swag!

I look at Hector. "_I'm going on the next two trips._"

He grins. "_Stopping the swag where it starts?_"

I nod. Ram takes her bags and I take her hand.

"How much do I need to dispose of this time?" Not that I got to last time. It disappeared.

She looks over at me. "Ella's holding it. I thought you might try something sneaky."

Damn. I'll never get to it. We get Sis situated on 7, I call Tank, and head back to 5. There's a delegation in my office. A decision has been made. I pick up the phone.

"Ella? Feeling up to some embroidery?"

* * *

**A/N: Side Story: The Gossip Says. . . **


	50. DEFCON III

**A/N: Conversation in **_**Italics**_** understood to be in Spanish. Also, this chapter opens the week after Steph and Hector return from NYC.**

**Get comfy and grab the Kleenex. This is a long chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 50: DEFCON III**

**Hector's POV—Wednesday Morning**

This situation cannot continue. I can't take it. This has to stop. I'm getting flashbacks of living in my Mama's house when my sisters became women. I want to run and hide.

My _Angelita_ is losing it.

I sent Hal a memo and told him to modify it so each XO understands. I could tell he had Ram's help in crafting it. He sent the memo this morning.

* * *

**NOT FOR DISCUSSION**—TO BE LIMITED TO CORE TEAM AT EACH BRANCH ONLY

Please be advised. The CO is in an uncertain mood. Engagements in Trenton have been unsuccessful. Conversation with the CO should be limited to business matters **only** until situation is resolved. Do **NOT** attempt to tease or question until CIO and/or Chief Strategist can determine issue.

Failure to comply may find you without your balls. Tread carefully, men.

Trenton Core Team

* * *

Within minutes, Les calls.

"_No better_?"

"_Worse. Completely uncommunicative. Growling, snapping, Hal's afraid to go near her."_

Lester curses. Hal attempted to take _Angelita_ out on a day away from the rest of the men again. He said she never smiled.

"_Not even Connie could help."_

"_Mary Lou?"_

"_Had her kids. Couldn't get away."_

We sit in silence on the phone. The Trenton men are all scared. We want our _Angelita_ back. This pod person we currently have sucks. Atlanta and NYC are on standby. If the CO needs to get away, they're prepared to host her.

Les sighs. _"Call him."_ _Click_.

I send the encrypted text (cb ASAP ywiNOTf DEFCON3). I get a txt back, (5). In five minutes, the phone rings.

"_What happened?"_

"_We don't know. Physically she's fine. Emotionally . . . we don't know."_

"_Describe it."_

"_Moody, growling, angry, frustrated, never smiles, never happy, no hugs. I'm scared. Hal's scared. We aren't sure what to do and Les is no help. Ram's living in the Bomber file. She's living in the range again."_

"_Anyone die?"_

"_No."_

"_She's seen the family? Her friends? Rex is OK?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Ate her junk?"_

"_Yes, we covered everything we could think of."_

Silence.

"_Ella aware?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then there's nothing you can do except wait. Ella will know what to do."_

I explode._ "Tell __**ME**__, bro! Tell me what you're waiting for! This is my partner. __**I**__ need to know what's going on. It's my job to care for her and I don't know what to do. I feel frustrated. TELL ME!"_

Silence. I don't care. Shit, I need to know. _Angelita_ needs me, and I'm not providing what she needs right now. I feel like a failure and I **despise** that feeling.

"_You can't help her. What she wants, what she needs, is me."_

Shit. "_Explain_."

Silence. Ranger hates explaining anything, but he's going to have to this time. He left me in charge of her–well, the guys placed me as her partner. He knew what that would mean to me. He has trackers on. I can find him.

"_Mission has always meant overseas and incommunicado and it doesn't this time. I've told her that we'll talk about our relationship when the op is over. She's uncertain and frustrated, and I'm not around. That's why I told you I was the problem, inadvertently. If I were simply gone, it would be somewhat easier for her to handle, but I keep popping up. Add the company on top of that and it's an emotional melt down."_

I'm stunned. He actually knows enough about _Angelita_ to figure this out and expect it, but not enough to convince her to leave The Cop before now? I shake my head. Ranger is brilliant, but I guess everyone has their _pendejo_ moments. And it begs the question: Why didn't **I** figure this out?

"_Clearly you aren't coming home soon. We can't take much more of this. What do we do?"_

"_Nothing. That's why I asked if Ella is there. It's common when soldiers are deployed overseas, and this is something Ella can help her with. Get used to it. This will creep up from time to time from now until I return. But, to make it easier, I'll do my best not to pop up anymore. When you move to another office, text me so I can avoid you. Maybe if I steer clear completely, it will be a little easier for her to handle. Mission will go back to meaning completely unavailable__." _Silence. "_By the way, Les knew. He didn't want to call it, in case he was wrong."_

_Click_.

I look at the phone and whimper. This is going to happen from time to time?

I start working my contacts. Ranger has to wrap this op up. He has to come home **now**. And I'm slicing Les next time I see him.

* * *

**Steph's POV—Wednesday Night**

For the past four months, I've been working 12-14 hour days at RangeMan. No days off, under constant surveillance, with everyone trying to "help" and "make me better." Worse, I'm so busy I can't remember anything not on my calendar.

Dinner at Mom's? Distant memory.

Viewing at Stiva's? Where's Stiva's? Is it on my calendar? No? Oh well.

Location of Pino's? Fading memory.

I've had enough.

This is worse than being a prisoner. I have no privacy unless I'm on 7. I can't go anywhere without a security detail–well, Hector, but that's the same thing. I love my partner but I need time away from him too. I haven't had a doughnut in weeks. I have no independence anymore. I don't even feel like myself anymore. I can't remember the last time I had a meatball sub from Pino's. I haven't picked up Eula or Mooner in ages. I actually miss my 'regular' skips. I miss the bonds office. I miss the Friday night freak show called Dinner at Mom's. I miss sleeping in my own bed, watching Ghostbusters, and eating my weight in ice cream. I appreciate being able to buy smaller jeans, but I'll take my old jeans in exchange for my freedom.

I don't want to be Ranger anymore. This life is shit. It's constant pressure, constant headaches, constantly watching the XOs and ensuring that everything is working and operating as it should. It's 6 a.m. gym time, 7 a.m. core team calls, 7:30 range time, 9 a.m. liaison pulse checks, branch status reports, weekly accounting reports, time sheets, payroll, meetings with accountants, lawyers, calls to each XO individually and trying to help Hal since I sent his strategist to NYC. It's living from my calendar and going to sleep with a Bluetooth in my ear.

It's having three Bluetooths, just in case I forget to charge the other two.

This life means being the world's worst hamster Mommy. Ella is officially in charge of feeding Rex. I can't remember the last time I dropped a raisin in his tank. Rex could be in his tank, paws up, and I might not notice for weeks. See, this is why I don't need kids. I can't remember to feed the damn hamster and I've had him for years. I love him and he doesn't scare me.

I've figured out the real reason Ranger, and every other man in this place, stays in the field: office life will drive you up the wall. Being handed monitor duty really is the worst punishment you can get. Hal's grown to love handing it out. 'Time out for dip sticks', he calls it. No wonder Ranger doesn't mind going in the wind; it's a vacation.

I'm living in a fishbowl, a glass fishbowl.

I'm reconsidering life with Ranger.

I can't take this.

If this is his life, I don't want it. I can't handle it. And I know that this is just the company part. The government contracts are entirely separate.

What kind of relationship is this? With the man I love constantly gone? What do I get in this life? At least with Joe I know he'll be home every night, unless he's undercover. Life with Joe isn't looking so bad all of a sudden. At least with Joe, I'll know where he is. He's stateside. Ranger? Who the hell knows? Right now he's stateside, but the rumors are supposed to be that he's overseas. Sometimes he **is** overseas. Again, who the hell knows!

Joe: Ring, kids, no bounty hunting or excitement. Dinner on the table by 6p.m. and church on Sunday.

Ranger: No ring. No kids. No freedom. No acknowledgement. No long term commitment. Barely any communication. No idea if he's here, there, alive, dead, in danger or perfectly OK. No idea what's going on.

Once a week, I get a text with 'Proud of you, Babe' or some other short message, but it's not enough. Is that all I'll ever have with him, quick moments in private, just in case someone sees us? The alley, Ranger's homes, hiding out on 7 or 8? Constantly hiding from the world? Will I ever be allowed to acknowledge that we have anything? A friendship, a relationship, a marriage (yikes!), something more than casual sex and work between us?

Does Ranger want me because he loves me or because I belonged to Joe? No, scratch that. I do know he loves me. He just can't or won't tell me in a language I understand.

No. I'm out. I'm done. I don't want it. I've put forth the effort for four months and I'm beaten. I'm licked. I'm hanging up my handcuffs and going . . . AHHH! I can't even go home! My grandmother is in my apartment!

I stand up, in the middle of Ranger's bedroom, and scream at the top of my lungs. I can feel the tears. I'm done. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon. I'm moving back to my mother's.

I'm taking back **my** life.

* * *

7 p.m. finally hits and I head to 7. I'm exhausted. I don't want to talk to anyone. I've snapped at almost everyone today, so the men are tiptoeing around me. I noticed that as each man came in today, he was quietly warned that the CO was in a 'mood' and that he should be careful. I'm sure they're thinking PMS but that was 2.5 weeks ago, when I screamed at Sarah. She merely looked at me, asked if I felt better, then added five more crunches to my workout.

Bitch. To think I liked her.

I walk into Ranger's apartment and I'm surprised to see Ella standing there with a suitcase.

"Take a quick shower. We're leaving."

Damn right I am. Straight to Mom's. Thanks for packing for me, Ella. Just drop me on Roosevelt. Under normal circumstances I might ask more questions, but I'm too tired right now. I take a quick shower and dress in the outfit Ella left on the bed. Keys, gun, purse, shoes and I'm out the door behind Ella. We go straight down to the garage where we meet Hector.

"_¿Seguro que no quieres que te acompañe?_" (Are you sure you don't want me to come along?) Hector asks quietly.

She doesn't reply, just stares him down until he looks at me.

"_Sólo mira tus rastreadores. Toda su vida está bajo un microscopio. ¡Basta ya!_._"_ (Just watch your trackers. All her life is under a microscope. Enough!) Ella replies sharply.

Hector's eyebrows rise. Ella getting sharp with anyone is new territory. Even I'm kinda surprised. He takes the suitcase from Ella, packs it into her trunk, and opens her car door. Moments later we're off, and I'm checking to see where the security detail is when I realize that I don't see one. No security? Where on earth are we going? This isn't the way to Mom's.

"Ella, where are we going?"

"Ella, can you drop me at my Mom's?"

"Ella, can we stop for a meatball sub first?"

Ella's not answering any of my questions. She just looks at me, that 'Mom' look, and tells me to sit back and enjoy the scenery. That if I look out the window instead of at her, I will figure out where we are going. I want to yell at Ella, but I know when I've reached a limit. I will **never** yell at Ella so I obey. I look out of the window. We're headed . . . east? East is the shore, and the next thing I know I'm at Ranger's house in Point Pleasant. I look at Ella in surprise.

"You're offline."

OK, now I'm stunned, and I'm so grateful I start to cry. In the middle of Ella's Honda Accord, I'm leaking massive snot balls.

"Shhh. . . come on baby. . . let's get in the house. You need some time away from the men. You need some time away to be by yourself."

**Yes!** As usual, Ella anticipates everything. The house is stocked with food, and Ella sends me upstairs to bathe and change into something comfortable. I stay in Ranger's Jacuzzi tub until I get pruney then get dressed. I wander back downstairs to find that Ella is frying chicken. There's a massive ice cream bowl on the counter, filled with ice cream, and I can see mashed potatoes and gravy and rolls. I've never loved Ella more than I do right now. I wish she would adopt me. She knows how to make me feel better. I start inhaling the ice cream.

"Stephanie, you are not Ranger. Stop trying to **be** Ranger. Be Stephanie."

If only it were that easy.

"How, Ella? How can I be Stephanie when it seems that all the men see Stephanie as a disaster? Everything I've done in the last four months is about RangeMan and RangeMan standards and RangeMan protocol. This is why I never wanted to join RangeMan. The standards are impossible!"

I've started crying again. I don't mind crying in front of Ella because she'll make me feel better. For the first time in months, I have someone to talk to who will listen and isn't thinking about 'bettering' me.

"I'll never get back into the field. When I took this position, I had the feeling it was a snow job to get me chained to a desk while the guys were gone. Now I'm sure of it. The workload is insane! I don't care what Ranger and Tank said, no one person can do this! I barely see my friends anymore. I haven't picked up any of my old skips in ages and even if I wanted to, there's a new BEA who doesn't like me and doesn't appreciate me horning in on his territory."

This hurts more than I can really express. My last trip to the bonds office showed exactly how long it's been since I've done anything **I** wanted to. I was weeks behind in gossip and news. Connie spent hours trying to get me caught up and I still missed stuff that Mom covered later that night at dinner.

"I miss my family. I miss the Friday night freak show at Mom's. I miss going to Stiva's with Grandma. I miss smoking cigars with my Dad. Hell, I actually miss trying to tune out my mom's nagging! That's how I know it's been too long since I did anything **I **wanted to do."

Ella sets the chicken down in front of me. I immediately grab a leg, hot grease still dripping, and watch as she fixes me a plate. I'm almost done with the ice cream and my stomach has a tight fullness to it already, but I don't care. I'm eating till I pop.

"The men don't understand the concept of personal privacy. I never have a moment to myself and I'm starting to take it out on everyone around me, which isn't fair to anyone around me."

Ella starts cleaning up the kitchen while I enjoy my delicious meal. Everything I could want and it's drowned in gravy. Delicious tasty gravy.

"Where would you like me to start, Stephanie? Well, let's start with the men. The men see Stephanie as someone who is not disciplined and you must admit, in comparison to them, you are undisciplined."

I stop mid-chew. Is this support or not?

"The standards are not impossible to them because they are all accustomed to them, but they are brand new to you and you are making a massive shift in thinking in order to meet them. I see the changes in you, the men see the changes in you, but you don't see them because what you haven't recognized is that the moment you start to reach one level, they immediately raise the bar on you. Do you know what the female military standards are?"

That on my list of things to check up on when I first took over as CO but never followed through, so I shake my head. OK, maybe Ella's right about being undisciplined. That was four months ago.

"So if I tell you that you are probably within 4-6 weeks of meeting them, you would be surprised, wouldn't you?"

Surprised? Try shocked. Stunned. Flabbergasted. I would beat my goal. My mouth is hanging open, which makes Ella smile and close it. She takes the ice cream bowl and washes it, then puts the rest of the food away while I finish my plate.

"If I tell you that the wonderfully greasy meal you've eaten tonight is probably going to come up on you tomorrow morning, you would be surprised, right?"

Oh god, I hope that's not true. This is the most delicious meal I've had in months. I finish the chicken leg and the mashed potatoes. I have a breast left and Ella refills my plate with mashed potatoes and gravy.

"If I tell you that the men are impressed and proud of you, you wouldn't believe me, would you?" No I wouldn't. "Well Stephanie, all that is true. You cleared the minimums for passing the sit-up and push-up requirements weeks ago. They can't clear you on the physical standards until you pass the two-mile run and you've just gotten that walking boot completely off, so you have about a month to go before you're cleared on the physical standards. How does that make you feel?"

"Ella, why didn't they tell me? I mean, no one tells me how I'm doing so I never feel as if I'm making any progress."

"They didn't want to tell you because they don't want you to meet the minimums. They know you and they want you to surpass the minimums. To the RangeMen, the minimums are just the starting point, the least you can do. When Tank, Lester and Bobby come back to administer your clearance, they want to show that they worked with you to blow all expectations out of the water."

Can't we just work on getting past the finish line? No need to have me run an extra mile.

Ella shakes her head, smiling. I must have said that out loud.

"Stephanie, you are the standard by which other women in the company, if any are ever hired, will be judged, so they don't want to start an expectation that minimums will be OK. If you get cleared on minimums but don't keep it up, if you fail the monthly health check, then it looks like your success was a fluke. It opens you up to derision from the other branches. You know how Trenton and Atlanta feel about you. You're an example to the NYC men, so Hal and the boys don't want that for you. They want you to develop this mindset of excellence now. If you do it now, it's easier to maintain."

I see where Ella is coming from, but they still could've told me I was making progress. I really hope I don't see this meal again. It's delicious. Ella refills my water glass and smiles.

"Ella, why do you think I'll see this meal again tomorrow?"

"Honey, you've been eating healthy meals for four months now. Even with the occasional slice of cake or cheat meal, or five slices of pizza in NYC," Ella smiles. Who blabbed?! "you've had very little fat and sugar in your diet. And yes, I'm well aware of every sugary item you've eaten and every treat you've been slipped. I have to account for it in your diet. Otherwise, Sarah would have to give you more cardio."

Oh, well in that case, thanks Ella.

"So your body is going to have a job trying to process that meal. If I'm right, and I might not be, your body will reject this meal as something bad for you. It happens in people who have been on a diet then try to eat the way they used to. They feel horrible. They have diarrhea, constipation, you name it. Their bodies can't accept it."

Now I want to cry. This delicious meal, full of fat and grease and sugar, is going to betray me? I want to cry but I still need to finish the mashed potatoes and gravy. If I'm going to see it again, I want it to be worth it.

"Well, if I see it again tomorrow, so be it. Does this mean that I might get a chance to have Pino's more often? You know, so my body doesn't reject it?"

Ella smiles. "Pass the standards first, then I'll start working your favorite meals back into the rotation carefully. I don't want your body to get sick."

Now I'm happy. I'm almost at the point of passing RangeMan physical standards and I'll get **my** food back as soon as I do. I lean back on the stool and pat my stomach. Delicious. _Sigh_. I hope Ella's wrong about seeing it again tomorrow.

"Now, let's talk about your personal life. You miss your family and friends, and I'm not surprised. Like I said, you're not Ranger. You have to stop trying to be Ranger." Ella picks up my dishes and places them in the sink. "Let's look at the situation from the reverse. Ranger keeps his family at a distance to keep them safe. He tried to keep you at a distance but you attract as much mayhem as he repels." Ella chuckles. "So the only people in the world Ranger is close to are you, Tank, Lester, Bobby, and Hector. That's it. That's his family."

That's sad. Five people. Five people make up Ranger's entire family and four of them are extremely deadly. I also find it interesting that Ella **is** related to Ranger, through marriage, but she doesn't count herself.

I finish my water and waddle behind Ella to the deck. We gaze at the stars for a while before Ella finally turns to me. "You and he will never quite see eye to eye on your need to have lots of people in your life. For Ranger, he shows his love by keeping them at a distance, so they can't be used against him like Scrog tried to.

I think that situation, more than any other, proved to him that his actions for years were correct. Scrog may have gotten to you, he may have gotten Julie, but he couldn't get the rest of his family. The fact that Scrog did manage to get the two most important people in his life scared him beyond words."

Ella is quiet as looks at me, and I get the feeling she's about to say something very important.

"After that incident, Ranger was ready to cut ties with both of you permanently. He never wanted either of you at risk because of him. The boys convinced him that was a terrible move, so he had Hector bury your trails so deep that you and Julie barely exist to the government anymore. Try searching for yourself tomorrow and see what you come up with. He did it all because he cares and he never wanted to see you hurt due to association with him."

I sit back, stunned. Ranger nearly cut ties with me just as I acknowledged that I love him. He nearly cut ties with Julie, and she shot her kidnapper to protect her father. I know Ranger. He would have disappeared and I never would have found out why.

"Scrog got you because you kept putting yourself out there to be captured. You were Ranger's last known weakness and it was used against him, which brings us back to the standards. Tell me Stephanie, if it were you and Ranger against the world, could you hold his back? Would you be willing to fight and die for him? Would you do whatever was necessary to make sure you both came out alive or that Ranger came out alive?"

I nod, silent tears coming down my cheeks. "Yes. Yes, I would."

Ella pins me with a glare in the moonlight. "How? How can you? You complain about mastering every skill that would help keep you and him alive. You don't have to like the gun range. I certainly don't. But if RangeMan were ever attacked, I can stand at my husband's back and protect him with my last breath. I can take down a man one on one. I can escape handcuffs and locks. I know the SOPs for emergency situations. I can drive like Tokyo Drift, if needed. As much as he might not like it, my husband knows that in a clutch situation his wife won't abandon him for safety and she won't leave him open to harm. He can concentrate on getting us out alive. Can you do that for Ranger? Can you do that for the man you love?"

Oh shit. No. I can't. I'd drop the gun in fear. I'm better, accurate, but I still don't like carrying. I carry now because of Hector and Daddy. I'd get stunned trying to stun someone. Tokyo Drift?

"It's one thing to say you love him and could hold his back. It's another to do it. Ranger has never wanted to change you, has never wanted to turn you into Jeanne Ellen." Ella says Jeanne Ellen's name as if it's something nasty under her nose. I'm amused. "But he leads a dangerous life, Stephanie. If you want to be with him, if you love him, you will learn how to protect him. I hope I never have to shoot someone to save Luis but I know, and he knows, that I will shoot and kill to save him. That's the true purpose of RangeMan standards, Stephanie. To protect the ones you love. To hold the back of those you care about. To ensure everyone can go home safe and sound to their loved ones."

Ella takes a deep breath and leans back in her chair. I get the feeling that the last few minutes were as close to yelling at me as Ella was going to get, and it's a sobering thought.

I've done things for Ranger to help him but protect him? I consider this. No. No, I've never actually protected Ranger. Not from an enemy but Ranger has for me. He's used his skills and training numerous times in order to save my life. Could I, like Ella, protect Ranger's back from an enemy?

No. I can't. The skills I would need in order to stand by his side I complain about. Because of it, Ranger will never let me guard his back. If RangeMan were attacked he'd have Hector knock me out and remove me. Tank would be at Ranger's back. Then Ranger could concentrate.

Oh my god, what about Hector? He **has** been shot while serving as my partner and while his shooting had nothing to do with me, I remember what Ranger said. '_So, were you going to try to hold his back at the club? He would've been distracted trying to ensure he had your back instead of scanning for a threat.'_ I could have gotten Hector killed trying to protect him. Hector has been working with me from the beginning because he was afraid I wouldn't take it seriously. He didn't want to die because of me. I spent hours in the range, becoming accurate, because I never wanted Hector to be hurt. If I had to now I could shoot to kill. But would I?

Ella is twice my age and she's the housekeeper. And she has a greater chance of defending RangeMan than me.

Finally Ella is calm enough to proceed in a quiet soothing manner. "I brought you here this weekend because I heard your scream last night. I knew your last nerve had snapped. It was time to give you some time to yourself, to think about what you want. These are the things I want you to think about this weekend. Are you ready?"

I walk back into the house, grab a sheet of paper, and hit the deck lights on the way back out. "Ready."

"1. What do I want from the man I love? And note, I didn't say Ranger. I said 'the man I love'. 2. What am I willing to do for him? 3. What compromises am I willing to make? 4. What do I need to be happy? 5. What's non-negotiable in our relationship? Think on those things this weekend and once every month until the man you love returns."

I fold the paper and place it in my pocket. We sit back and enjoy the breeze and the salt air for a while before Ella picks up again.

"You have a lot of work to do to pass RangeMan standards, Stephanie, but it is all your choice. If you choose to become a company woman and not get into the field anymore, you need to let Tank know. It is assumed that, with the exception of the housekeepers and maintenance men, every active employee at RangeMan can hold his own in the field. In essence, RangeMan is one massive Black Ops company. All the men may not go on missions, but all have to be **able** to go if the company gets a contract that requires their skills. You have realized that, right?"

I nod. That was one of the first things I noticed in Atlanta. None of the network guys looked like TV techie dweebs. These guys were fit, muscular, and clearly spent some time in the sun. And they liked to brag about their range scores.

"If you choose not to go into the field anymore, Tank will need to create a new set of standards for you." Ella looks at me solemnly. "However, you can still expect range time, driving assessments, and weightlifting to be included, at a minimum. Still, since you are so close, I don't see why you would give up with success in sight."

I shift in my seat. Now that I know that I'm close to clearing the physical standards, the other stuff doesn't seem so bad.

"Ella, do you know how close I am to clearing the other standards?"

Ella sits back and thinks. "You cleared the informal driving and the range assessments. You're close on the weightlifting. Hector says you've cleared lock-picking and he's working on your knife skills. You need more practice swimming and on hand to hand. I'll bet you still haven't read the SOPs, have you?"

I cringe. Nope. Fresh copy still in my office.

Ella sighs. "You will be tested on your knowledge of the SOPs, but I will give you a bit of advice Stephanie." I look at Ella. "Memorize them before you hit the Miami office. Let's just say the SOPs are treated as a suggestion there rather than an operating manual."

Oh. Not good. I guess I need to start reading the SOPs now.

Ella smiles. "The things the men cannot teach you are the traits of true leaders, and you have demonstrated them in the past four months. Passion. Candor. Curiosity. Daring. Reinvention! Critical decision making, leadership development of subordinates, intelligence gathering and analysis, and a promotion of teamwork above all." Ella grins. "You can't teach that and you have it naturally. That's why Trenton, Atlanta, and NYC love you already. You believe in encouraging people, not killing them on the mats."

I frown. "Are you saying that you don't think the mat skills are important?"

Ella shakes her head. "No, what I'm saying is that the men fear and respect the Leadership Core and they should. That's the top management and they've earned that response. The men love and respect you, and they should because you've earned their affection. They want to please you simply because it will make you and them happy. They know you can't take them to the mats right now, so what other reason do they have to accept you and your orders other than a fear of the Leadership Core or Hector? Unless it's the fact that you've inspired loyalty all on your own."

I can feel the tears on my cheeks. That makes me feel great. I've felt so much pressure to do well because I knew I couldn't take anyone to the mats that it's nice to hear Ella say that I inspire loyalty.

"Now, the company. I acknowledge that you are up to your eyeballs doing Ranger's work, and as much as I would like to say that it's a snow job, it's not. You are working through Ranger's actual day, his actual life. Have you ever thought about the fact that this is what Ranger deals with when he's not on a mission?"

I sit back. I did, last night, but only because I was sick of it. This is Ranger's life. This is what he does when he's **not** overseas.

"You see how much time he has free," Ella says quietly. "That means any time he doesn't spend in the building, any time he spends with you, was because it was a priority for him. You are his priority. When you've needed him, he's always been there, but it meant putting his company on the back burner until you were OK." Ella pats my hands and walks back into the house.

I sit back and swallow hard. I see that now. I never really thought about it but it's another thing being shoved in my face. When I had that breakdown, after Joe called it quits and Ranger brought me out to Point Pleasant, he was taking time away from meetings and company matters to take care of me. He didn't hesitate. He simply scooped me up and did what was best for me. He rubbed my back while I cried, held me while I slept, and made love to me when I needed him. He took care of me and asked for nothing in return.

Instead, we returned to Trenton and I hit him with an emotional plea. Maybe that's why he didn't take it seriously? Because he didn't want to be the rebound? He even told me he wasn't a Morelli substitute and I still used him to make **me **feel better. He knew me, at that moment, better than I knew myself. He would have been a rebound. I was using him to feel better about myself, about the fact that Joe had dumped me, about the fact that he dumped me without letting me say a word.

Ella returns and gently covers me with a light blanket, but I can't see her through the tears. Joe dumping me gave me the courage to confess to Ranger that I loved him, but how could he take it seriously? I'd just been dumped by another man! I was in his home crying over another man! I spent the weekend eating my weight in ice cream and walking along the beach. The only thing missing was a marathon of romantic comedies! I was emotional and vulnerable, and if he didn't think he was the rebound before he would have **known** it right then. **I** wouldn't have taken me seriously.

I'm sobbing on the deck and Ella is sitting next to me rubbing my back. It hurts so much more than the first time because I see that I used the one person who's always been there for me. I used him to make me feel better and Ranger didn't deserve that. He didn't want to make me any promises or agree to a relationship because I was fresh out of one. I needed time to pull myself back together. Ranger is **no one's** substitute, but if he'd agreed in the car that's exactly what he would have been. Joe's substitute. How many times have I done this? Broken up with Joe only to scoot closer to Ranger, then back away when Ranger makes it clear he's not interested? He kept throwing me off because I wasn't serious and he knew it.

Decision by attrition, to use Hector's phrase. Joe took himself out of the running so I threw myself at Ranger. Ranger backed away, as usual, but instead of 'no' this time I got 'maybe'. Why? Why did he give me hope this time instead of saying 'no' like he did every other time? Was it because I finally told him he had my heart? Was that the deciding factor? I clear my nose and think. Probably. Now that I think of it, I'm not sure if I've ever told Ranger I love him. I don't think I've ever actually said those words. What did I tell him? That he had my heart, my commitment, but that's not 'I love you'. I'm pissed because Ranger's been saying it in Spanish, but at least he's said it. I don't think I have. Ever.

Now I am serious and he's not here. He knew both he and Joe would be gone for a year and if I was still serious when he came back then he wouldn't be the rebound. He knew I needed the time to really make the decision. And for the first time, he gave me reason to hope that we could have a relationship. He gave me his criteria, what he needs from me in this relationship. I'm getting a chance to see what his life is like, what it might really be like to live with him and possibly work with or for him. He gave me hope and time to think and, when he can come see me, he has. He's popped up when he could during this mission to see me. Joe's not finding a way to send me messages but Ranger is.

I finally calm down and sit back in the deck chair. Ella leaves and returns with a glass of water and a cold compress for the headache. She wipes my face and I can't look at her. I can't bear to see all the love and support in her face. I'm ashamed of my actions. I used Ranger and I don't know how to say 'I'm sorry'. She sits another box of Kleenex next to me and we sit in silence for a while, listening to the ocean and watching stars twinkle.

"So, let's talk about your day," she says softly. "Your day is much busier than his because it's packed with sessions to get you up to RangeMan standards, but here's the kicker, Stephanie: They never go away. You don't meet them once and then it's over. The gym, the gun range, the standards, every man, and woman, is recertified every year. It's on-going. The things on your calendar now may disappear but only because it will be expected that you will do it on your own."

Ella yawns and blinks rapidly. "Ranger put his life on a schedule. Certain days meant certain things. So take a look at your schedule and reorganize it if you have to. Everyone else will reorganize their lives around you. They did for Ranger, they will for you. As far as the company, have you seen the reporting structure?" I nod. "Do you realize that you are the most powerful person in the entire company?"

I sit up, surprised. "No, that would be Leadership Core," I croak.

Ella smiles and points to the glass of water. "No, that would be you, _cariña_. Leadership Core is now removed from the day to day responsibilities of managing the company. They'll continue to execute the big ideas, bring up more branches, do the big things for the company, like more black ops work. Didn't you just recommend the establishment of a Charlotte branch?" I give her a 'thumbs up', because I'm still drinking the water, and she grins. "Well, who's going to run the company while they bring it up?"

I sit back. I hadn't thought about it. I thought . . . I thought Ranger might. "Ranger? I thought Ranger might?"

Ella chuckles. "I doubt it. Ranger is a man of action. He'll want to be on site during the establishment of a new office, looking over the men and area himself. So who is running the office?"

Me. Dammit. It would be me. I'll never get out the office.

"Me, I guess."

"Here's the thing, _cariña. _You've damned yourself with excellence." She motions for us to move back inside. The mosquitoes are out. She takes my glass to the kitchen but continues talking. "Four months in and the company is showing 5% growth. What was the target for the year?"

"6%." I lock the door to the patio and follow her to the kitchen. She's refilled my glass and is filling one for herself, but she points in the direction of the TV room.

"Exactly. You've nearly made the boys' goal. I'm not sure how you've done it, but it's all the accountants in Miami are buzzing about amongst themselves, according to Rose. It's not unhealthy growth either. It's sustainable, according to them. You've plugged holes in Atlanta, Trenton's bottom line is very healthy and Boston is performing as usual. 60% of this company is making money hand over fist and the accountants can't wait to see what happens in NYC and Miami.

The contracts NYC has pulled in have made the accountants' eyes bug out! If you get whatever their issues are straightened out, this company could see double digit growth. Can you imagine that? You! The woman in charge would grow the male-dominated company even faster than the men did, and all you did was fix the problems!"

Ella is laughing and I'm stunned by this. We nearly made the numbers. Everything from here is extra. I stretch out on the sofa next to the big picture window and think about that for a while. So far, I'm doing what the guys wanted me to do. I'm growing the company. I'm helping where and when I can.

"I'm sure Ranger will be very proud of you for growing his company so well. It shows everyone that the boys were right to have faith in you, contrary to what all the stuffed up men have to say." Ella grins.

That makes me smile. Ranger's weekly text message looks a lot better if I think of it like that. It's not a half-assed attempt at communication from an untraceable number. It's his weekly reminder that he's proud of me and has faith in me. From an untraceable number. In a message designed to self-destruct one hour after I read it.

"You are the power in the company. Every man and every woman reports directly to you. You are the only stop between the men and Leadership Core. The XOs need your permission to do things. You have the power to hire and fire. You can recommend actions to the Leadership and they respond. Do you know how long Javier fought to get an increase in pay in NYC? He asked you and he got it! You, Stephanie! You are the power at RangeMan. You have the ability to destroy the company and elevate, all in one tiny little woman."

I'm starting to see her point. I'm not doing big big things. I'm just fixing the small things I see and it's making a big impact. Ella smiles but then her smile fades.

"However, this is the moment where you decide what kind of life you want to lead. Sometimes, the hardest part about moving forward is recognizing that you have to leave where you're at. All your friends are at one stage of their lives and you are moving into another stage. If you choose to remain at RangeMan, your friendships may not stay the same. After all, your purpose for stopping by the bonds office every day used to be to pick up your work. You could hang out there all day and talk to the girls and get more information on your 'skips'. That's not your life anymore."

Ella is lighting candles and pulling out light cotton blankets for us to curl up with. "When your friend, Mary Lou, became a mother, your relationship changed, did it not?" I nod. "She could no longer go and hang out with you at a moment's notice. Family dinners became important, I assume."

Yeah, they did. I always felt as if I was intruding on something special and intimate, so I stopped dropping by.

"Her life changed and so did your friendship, but your friendship didn't end. It changed right along with the two of you. So this time it's you doing the changing and her adapting to your changes. You two have been friends for years. You'll work it out. Do you think that's what will happen with you and the girls at the bonds office?"

I sit back and consider it. Connie and I talk once a week, a lot less than we used to, but we talk a lot more during those calls. We talk about everything and it's nice. Lula has finally stopped being mad at me. She's out in Texas with Tank right now and she called me in the middle of the NYC trip to tell me Tank proposed. I'm happy for her but I haven't heard from her since then. I'm hoping the tug of war we were having over her access to the building is finally over.

The RangeMen didn't really want to allow her into the building without Tank being there. Her only other purpose, in their opinion, would be to come see me and it violated SOPs. No visitors in the secure areas of the building, which includes the 7th floor. As long as we're not on the 7th floor they'll figure something out, but she wanted to see where I live and I agree with Ranger. The 7th floor apartment is **ours**. It's my sanctuary against **everyone**.

He had a point. I've been to her home twice but everyone wants to be in my business. It reminds me of what Hector said in NYC. The entire city of Trenton is betting on my love life. I'm a source of open commentary and jokes. I'm Trenton's punch line. Hell, even my father said it months ago. I look better than Chris Christie so everyone talks about me.

I'm sick of being their joke.

I consider what I know. Aside from my family, Mary Lou, Lula and Connie, no one really calls me. Not to say hey, to catch up, to invite me out. Everyone in Trenton knows both the men in my life are gone and no one has anything to say to me. I haven't been to the police station in months because I don't have any skips, so I'm sure they're sad to see their source of side funding has dried up. But otherwise?

My phone isn't exactly ringing off the hook.

As a matter of fact, I get calls from Cindy and Nikki in Atlanta more than my sister. Their calls are like Mary Lou's, calls to catch up and see how I'm doing. Invitations to come and visit. Nikki wanted to know if I would mind taking her and Hector Manuel to the beach, if it isn't too much trouble, when they come up to visit Hector.

My family is just weird. Every family dinner now contains a discussion of the skills I'm acquiring. No mentions of men, marriage, or babies and I'm still trying to figure out what brought that on. Mom loves the Merry Men and Dad loves for them to drop by at dinnertime. He talks during our meals. I noticed Grandma's stopped pinching the guys (I'm almost certain Hector had something to do with that) and our dinners are pleasant. The guys actually enjoy going now. I enjoy going now.

The Merry Men are pinch hitting while Ranger and BLT are away. Hector is my closest friend and confidante, even closer than Les and I are. He's my shot of painful reality and can tell me hard truths in a way that I can understand. Hal is another big brother, teasing me but worried about my health and happiness above all. He's even given me a special nickname, Sis, which makes me smile. Ram and Danny are the truthful ones. I know that I can get the absolute, unvarnished truth from them and they're just as concerned about my happiness as Hal. Watching Ram dig through the Bomber file when I'm upset is amusing; he's really determined to resolve all threats and make me happy again. Manny is the prankster and jokester but he has a devious mind like mine. We think so similarly that lately I can simply look at him and he'll nod. Message received. I never thought of myself as gaining any ESP but I realize it's a symptom of working and living with these guys 24-7. I've learned how they work, what makes them tick.

There are new people in my life. Ella is right. My friendships are changing and Ranger isn't even here to be a factor. His absence is the biggest factor. I never considered that his absence meant that I would end up filling up the huge hole his presence makes with multiple other people.

Ella hasn't said anything while I've been contemplating this, but now she sits next to me on the sofa and holds my hand. I look over at her and I'm surprised to realize that I can barely see her for the tears.

"This is a part of being in Ranger's life," she says quietly. "There will be loneliness. Even Ranger felt it, but he had made his decision and he accepted it. You must make your decision now, and I'm not asking you to make a decision on the men. I'm asking you to decide if you want to continue on the path you're on. Your scream frightened me and I had to order the men to stand down on 6. They were ready to storm the apartment for threats." Ella pats my hand and smiles.

"This is a part of growing into the next phase of your life. Only you can decide what it will be. Just know that your true friends will accept your decision and love you all the same."

With that, Ella turns off the remaining lamp and I'm left in the candlelight to think.

* * *

**A/N: Side Story: We Woo. Hal-centric.**


	51. Changes

**A/N: Link to Flickr Set for Ranger's Point Pleasant House is on my profile.**

* * *

**Chapter 51: Changes**

**Steph's POV**

I spend the next morning in my thinking position in the bed. There are lots of decisions for me to make and I don't want to. None of them are easy. None of them are simple. None of them are clear and no matter what I choose, everything will change. I don't have enough options and I don't have enough information.

I sound like Javi. I completely understand his hesitance now. It makes total sense. What did Hector say?

_Love is rarely sensible but marriage? Marriages that last are based on sensible standards. Do we get along? Do we share the same values? Do we support each other? Are our goals in life similar? Are we able to make decisions together and can we disagree and still be OK with each other? That sort of thing._

If I look at my relationships with Joe and Ranger along those guidelines, how do they stack up? Joe? Mostly no. Ranger? Mostly no idea, yes to the 'support' and 'get along' questions.

I flop onto my back and sigh. No easy answers there.

Ella said I need to make a decision on RangeMan, and she's right. Four months in and the company is showing impressive growth, but I can't continue to live like this. No. I'm not ready to think about the personal decisions I need to make. First things first. I separate the decisions I need to make about Ranger from the decision I need to make about the company. I need to determine if I'm going to stay and continue to run things or if I'm going to leave. If I intend to stay, I need to figure out what changes I need to make.

I start considering what I could do if I left RangeMan and I realize that I'm screwed. Vinnie gave my job to David, and even if I went and blackmailed him again, I remember Tank's words that morning in my apartment. Vinnie would definitely make me share skips with David, just as he occasionally handed my skips to Joyce. So he would make me and David, **and** Joyce, fight for them and he doesn't lose anything because it just triples his chances of getting the skip brought back in. I could probably get the skip faster with the RangeMan training, but why work for peanuts for Vinnie when I can run RangeMan?

I acknowledge that I enjoy the RangeMan work, even when I think it will drive me insane. Just like when I was a bounty hunter, no two days are the same. I am constantly on the lookout for new ways to grow the company, save money, and cut costs. I've found lots of ways to do the last two, but I haven't had a chance to put any of those ideas into practice. I suspect the growth has come from doing simple things related to backing up the XOs. The XOs and strategists are proving that they have their positions for a reason, so I just have to make sure I understand what they are attempting to do.

I know that a large part of my frustration comes from the lack of privacy and control. I don't get to control where I go because I have to coordinate with Hector to ensure I have security. I feel as if I'm being treated like a child. Hal, Hector and I are going to have to come to some kind of compromise on that. I can't go see my parents, see my friends, or shop without a guard. The President is lucky to have the Secret Service; if he had RangeMen, he'd never get to greet world leaders! So, if I choose to stay I'll have to pass standards, but once I pass standards, I can be considered an 'active' RangeMan and go off on my own once I'm 'offline'. So passing standards (if I choose to stay) has become important again.

If I leave then I'll really miss Danny and Hal cheering me on. Hal tells Danny everything about my progress towards standards, and I'll occasionally get a bouquet of flowers from the Atlanta office congratulating my success. I hadn't thought of it until now, but those flowers were really my only markers showing improvement in the past four months. The cheers I got from Atlanta and Trenton when I evaded Joyce still stands as one of my proudest moments.

If I leave I won't get to see who wins 'The Race to the Top'. Trenton and Atlanta are in a race to knock Mark down, and Hal came within two percentage points of doing it last month. I really want to see if he can manage it. I really want to see if Javier and Jorge can turn NYC around, and I won't get to snoop around Miami and Boston if I go.

The prospect of finding something out of place in Boston helps me make my decision. I'll stay, but there are going to be some changes.

Now that I'm determined to stick around for the year as CO, I can make some simple decisions. I hop out of bed and walk into the master bedroom office. I pull out my laptop and my legal pad and start making notes.

First decision: I want reports on my progress toward standards. Just as I receive status reports from the men every week, I want a status report on my success toward standards too. That way I'm not left in the dark about how I'm doing. Plus, I'm sitting down to talk to Hal when I go back. If he has set some arbitrary goal line for me to reach, beyond RangeMan minimums, I want to know what it is. I want some say on the goals I'm supposed to reach. I never want to be left in the dark on my progress toward standards again.

Next, I boot up my laptop. While I wait for my schedule to appear, I brew some coffee. Ella's left Danishes on the desk with a note: _In the pool. Use the phone (intercom 3) if you need me._ I smile at the note. As usual, Ella's giving me exactly what I need. She's available if I need her but otherwise? She's found something to do. I take a quick shower, tame the scary hair and brush my teeth. When I return to the office, my coffee and calendar are ready.

I take my Danish and coffee back to the desk and take a look at my schedule. On the face it doesn't look so bad, but I'm left without any real personal time each day. I usually have 30 minute meetings with 30 minutes in between to write notes and think. In reality, the calls usually take 15-20 minutes (RangeMen are quick and efficient) and I have 45 minutes to kill. I begin restructuring my schedule in Excel and, once I have a working schedule, I start moving meetings around in Outlook. I immediately receive 'Accepted' responses back, so again Ella was right. They will accommodate whatever I need, as long as I'm clear about what I'm going to do. Now, I have a better schedule and my entire Wednesday is free after 11AM.

I decide that Wednesday night is going to be my night to have dinner with my family. Mom calls RangeMan all the time (Hal is turning into her new favorite) wanting to see me and have the men over to dinner. I call her and let her know that we'll join her and Dad on Wednesday night. She's thrilled and wants to speak to Ella about appropriate meals. I cringe. I want gravy, but I walk down to the pool and ask Ella to talk to her. Ella happily agrees. I hand the phone over and listen as Ella immediately begins chatting about appropriate meals and promises to send some of her favorite recipes to Mom. I listen, stunned, as Mom and Ella chat as if they're old friends and at the end of the call, Ella smiles at me.

"You mother wants you to succeed."

"My mother wants me to get married and have babies."

Ella shrugs. "Every mother wants to see their child happy. Your mother believes marriage and children lead to happiness. She's entitled to that view. It worked for **her**." Ella looks at me pointedly. "What makes **you** happy, _cariña_? Do what makes you happy. Just make sure you can live with it."

I decide to think about that later. "Did any of your meals contain gravy?"

"Maybe."

I decide Ella is worse than Ranger. She's teasing me about gravy.

* * *

I realize that the other large part of my unhappiness comes from the fact that my relationship with Ranger is up in the air. Correction: my potential relationship. He refuses to talk about the obvious until his op is over and I realize that it means that I'm just hanging in limbo until he returns. I realize that I have to accept his reason for doing it; I'm assuming he wanted to make sure he wasn't the rebound, but I've made my choice. I'm sticking with it and him. I need to tell him that the next time we're together so that we can have a discussion about it.

It's been four months. I think that's enough time for him to accept that I made this decision from my heart, not just because I was hurt and looking to throw it back in Joe's face. I'm working under the assumption that we'll have something when he returns. I assume we will, since he showed me the Miami home that no one else knew about, but again, it's like being given a car when mine blows up. That's nice but how should I classify this action? What do I do?

I realize I'm beginning to sound more and more like the RangeMen. How do I classify this action?

I pull out my legal pad and Ella's list of important things to think about. I have eight months until the op is over (unless it ends sooner), so I can move these things around as I need to. Ranger gave me his criteria: Safe houses, panic buttons, a loaded gun, no running from arguments (which I guess means no 'Denial Land') and having to acknowledge that he **does** kill people. I'm not sure what comes under 'all the things you run from now' but I'm betting diet and exercise are in there.

**1. What do I want from the man I love?** Support, encouragement, love . . .

Hmm . . . this is harder than I thought. The things I want from Ranger I largely get. Support, encouragement, approval, help and no pressure about marriage and babies. What I don't get is acknowledgement, speech, and openness.

**2. What am I willing to do for him?** I'll submit to the exercise . . .

Uh boy. This feels like Algebra homework. Simple at first, difficult once you dive in.

**3. What compromises am I willing to make?** I'll exercise. I'll carry a weapon. . .

Hmm . . . I don't know. In order to know what I'm willing to compromise, I need to know what else he's going to demand. He's already specified the loaded gun, so I move that to #2.

**4. What do I need to be happy?** Support, love, the ability to make my own decisions (I stop and add that one to #1), acknowledgement of my successes and no judgment when I fail.

Crap. I also need sex, sugar, meatball subs, pizza, and the occasional family dinner. It may be petty, but I add those to the list. I'm not sure I can live in isolation all the time.

**5. What's non-negotiable in our relationship?** Love. Support. Honesty. Friendship. Encouragement. Trust. Sex. Sugar.

Ella is sneaky. No wonder she told me to think about this once a month. It will take me that long to fill out this list. I go looking for Ella, to discuss it, and she looks over my answers and smiles.

"Do not attempt to fill this all out at once, Stephanie," she smiles, "But I do want you to consider this. Write it down as another thing to think about if you must."

I grab a pen and sit at the kitchen table. Ella is sitting at the head, head back, biting her lip. She finally looks at me and I see tears in her eyes.

"You have two men in your life, Stephanie. I will not advise you on who you should pick. Your heart will advise you." I love Ella even more for that statement. "In either case, based on what little I know of each of them, you are attempting to love a man with deep wounds, _cariña_. He has been trained not to open his heart. He has been trained not to let anyone in close. You will have to be patient with him, but you cannot allow him to dictate to you. Questions 1 and 4 are all about your needs and what you must demand of him to be in a relationship, but Stephanie," she leans forward and grasps my hand, "relationships go both ways. Questions 2 and 3 are all about what you are willing to do _for_ him.

How are you willing to make love to him," she grins, "and not in an intimate, 'in the bed' way. How do you love your man? How do you show him you love him? How do you show him you appreciate him? Men need these things just as women do. They need to be reminded that they are loved too. It is easy for a woman to demand these things and never give them back to the man she loves."

Ella wipes her eyes. So do I. I swallow hard and walk into the kitchen, pour two glasses of water, and return to the table. Ella smiles and we drink our water quietly.

"Luis has never failed to appreciate my cooking, vocally. My willingness to cook his favorite foods, some of which are incredibly time intensive, is my way of showing my husband my love. I buy his favorite cologne. I leave him little notes in our apartment that remind him his loving, sexy wife misses him," she grins and I laugh. "I've sat through more than one incredibly boring _futból_ game with him because it is his favorite sport. Luis said he realized how deeply I loved him the day I asked him why a _futból_ player had been red-carded instead of yellow-carded."

We both laugh, although I don't get it. My face must show my confusion because she grins. "It showed that I'd taken the time to learn the sport, its rules, and the players on the field. Plus, I was asking my husband, the fanatic, for his opinion. He'd been very careful not to bore me with _futból_ knowledge. It showed him that I was willing to share his interests, just as he attempts to find something worthwhile in telenovelas." Now **that** I understand, and we both laugh. Ella pats my hands and stands, headed back to the pool. She turns at the door and smiles.

"Romance goes both ways. What you demand of the man you love you must also give him."

* * *

For the rest of the weekend, I enjoy my time at Point Pleasant. I walk on the beach, eat small amounts of junk (Ella was half right. I kept it down but hello diarrhea! Damn.), and watch Ghostbusters. I ask her if anyone knows where we are and she replies that Hector does. She told him, in the garage, that if he wanted to know where we were, he could check his trackers but he needed to make sure I was left alone. Hector will inform Tank to field calls for me over the weekend. Thank god for Ella. We play checkers, Monopoly, and poker and I learn that Ella is both a real estate tycoon and a card shark. My cell phone never buzzes and I search for it only to find it's been set to silent, no vibrate. I have a backlog of messages, but I don't care. I finally have a small amount of peace and privacy.

And we talk. Ella tells me stories from her life before RangeMan, from when she and Luis were newlyweds, and her life after joining RangeMan. Some of her RangeMan stories are hilarious, like the time she walked in on the men on 4 watching a surveillance tape. I'm rolling on the floor in the sunroom laughing.

"So Stephanie, you had to see it! Imagine, 10-15 young men in this room, running around trying to find cushions and blankets all because this surveillance tape is basically a customer porno! The customer forgot he had just installed cameras everywhere and he was in a back room, with his secretary, doing things the Church does **not** approve of," the tears are just rolling down my cheeks now, "and they've gotten together in a little party to watch it, as if the ones who watched it live didn't get enough of a peep show! And of course, when I stopped into this apartment to restock the supplies, none of them are smart enough to turn the TV off! Oh no, they're blushing red and looking for the remote and trying to hide and I'm trying not to laugh!"

I'm leaking tears and snot and this is absolutely hilarious! I wonder who the culprits were.

"So I turned around, told them the supplies were outside, and went back to 6 to laugh my head off. For the next few days, none of them could look me in the eye, which was good because I was never issued the 'blank face'."

Ella stops the story to wipe her eyes. "I did tell Ranger that he needed to inform the client that some of his more 'personal' activities were caught on tape and the men were too discreet to say anything but it needed to be handled. So everyone came out of that clean and I have blackmail on every man involved."

Oh my god, Ella is not only a domestic goddess and a card shark, she's devious. I want to know who was involved in that little viewing party. I could use that kind of blackmail.

Four days at the beach is great to restore me to sanity. I realize that next week is the 4th of July, so I call a realtor to see if I can rent a house somewhere in the area for a weekend. Ella and I meet June, the realtor, and tour five houses before I find one I like. I sign the contract to rent it for one month for $3200. I think about choking on the price (my apartment was $600 a month!) but I decide that the peace of mind for one month is worth it. Besides, my bank balance has never been so big. Renting this house for one month will not break the bank.

I call Mom and tell her that I'd like to bring the family to the beach for the weekend. We'll grill and relax and have fun. I can catch up on family gossip and spend time with my nieces. Mom gets excited. She starts planning menus and determining what to bring. She's mentally packing sheets and pillows when I stop her.

"Mom, the place is fully furnished."

I can hear the silent disdain. "Stephanie, you don't know who slept on those sheets! Do they have a washer and dryer?"

"Yes."

"OK. Then I'll bring sheets, pillows, towels, and everything we need, wash the sheets that are on the bed, and we'll put them back on when we leave." I can hear her shudder. "You don't know what those people have done in that bed and how clean they are." I say goodbye, hang up, and tell Ella what Mom said, rolling my eyes.

"I agree." I stop rolling my eyes and look at Ella. "I wouldn't sleep on those sheets either. I would do just what your mother is doing. I don't even like sleeping on hotel sheets." She shudders. "How do I know they cleaned those sheets today? Have you seen the way they clean floors and tubs? They just spray some solution in the tubs, swish a sponge around and call themselves cleaning!"

I'm thinking of all the hotels and B&Bs I've ever stayed in. I wonder how clean they were.

As we get close to Ranger's house, Ella says, "Ranger left instructions that all his property was available for your use so if you need to get away, go to the beach, Stephanie. You need a stress reliever and I know you love the beach, which is why I chose to bring you here. If you don't feel comfortable staying in Ranger's home, perhaps you should consider extending the rental agreement on that house for a few more months, but you cannot allow yourself to become as frustrated as you have been. Take a laptop, work from the beach. Ranger often did. He was offline more often than people realize."

"Who knows where Ranger's house is located?"

Ella smiles. "The Leadership Core Team, you, me and Hector. That's it and it needs to stay that way."

"Did Hector know about it before this weekend?"

"Yes."

Great. So now I can get away and take Hector with me. When we get back to Ranger's, I take a look at my calendar and find one weekend a month to go offline. I'm putting Ella's advice into practice now. I send the calendar requests to Hector, who approves all of them. The house phone rings.

"Are we about to become beach bunnies?"

Hector as a beach bunny? I laugh. Where would he hide the guns and knives? "Yup. I need time away."

"Good idea. Feeling better?"

"Yeah. How did you . . ."

"I heard the scream. Once I saw where the trackers were heading, I figured out what Ella was up to."

Nothing gets by Hector, at least not for long. "I made arrangements to rent a house for a month here."

"Why?"

"I want to bring my family out for a 4th of July at the beach, but I just had a thought. Do you want to come with us?"

I can feel Hector shudder. "No thanks. Your granny may choose to molest me while I sleep. I'll set up camp at Ranger's. That way, I'm close by if you need me, but you can have your family time. What are you going to do the rest of the month?"

"I'm still going to use the house. I'm thinking I might work from the rental for a week or two. I need a change of scenery."

The line is silent. Finally, I hear Hector. "Sounds like a good idea. Since you're renting a house, how about we change the guard? Only I know about Ranger's home, but if you rent one, you can take anyone you want."

It's a great idea. I love my partner, but I wouldn't mind getting away from him. I wonder if Ram or Manny would mind a week at the beach. Manny's been doing so much for Ranger and his op. I'm sure he'd love a week away to relax. Ram's been pulling double duty too, covering for Hal and Manny. Maybe Hal? A lot of his duties require him to be in Trenton in person, but I can't remember the last time Hal had an actual vacation. My Core Team needs a vacation. They've all been working so hard since they took over. Nikki and Hector Manuel are supposed to come up for some time with Hector in July and Nikki wanted to hit the beach. This would be a great time to do this.

"You know what? I think I'll extend the rental to six weeks. Nikki and Hector Manuel can stay here and hit the beach with you and me when they come visit you for the month. What do you think?"

"I think that is very generous, _Angelita_, and I know both Nikki and Hector Manuel would enjoy the trip. I will pay you for our week and I don't want to hear an argument." I can hear Hector's smile and I decide to allow my partner his pride.

We disconnect and I look at the calendar. The more I think about, the more I realize that I'd like to do this with the XOs, strategists, and liaisons. I remember what Lester said about jam sessions and it will be a way for me to encourage them to work together to grow the company. I call June to see if I can rent the house for two extra weeks. It's available, so I tell her I'll know if I need it in thirty minutes. I send calendar requests to each group to join me at the house for one week each. That way, I have plenty of RangeMen with me and I can spend time with them learning more about each man.

I send the invites and I'm shocked to see that I get acceptances from each one. Even Mark. Shit. An entire week with Mark. That's going to be awkward, but I call June back and rent the house from the 30th of June through the 10th of August. Six weeks.

I sit back and consider what I've done. I've taken my alone time at the beach and invited guests week after week. I don't have any brains. I shake my head. Well, the problem was being in the building all the time. Just because they're here doesn't mean I have to be with them all the time. I can work with them and take breaks to hit the beach and have fun. I want more balance through the day and this will be a good way for me to test that.

Again, I think about the fact that Ranger made all his personal property available to me. I'm wondering how many places he has. I go searching for Ella and ask.

"Two apartments and two homes that I know of. I'm sure there are more. The apartment on 7, the apartment on 8 in Miami, this beach house, and a home somewhere in Miami. I know that the home in Miami is known only to Ranger, although he may have left you a clue somewhere in one of the apartments."

Again, something to think about. Ranger did say that this would be an element of his life, having homes that no one knew about and not being able to tell anyone. I'm shocked to realize that I've now seen, and stayed in, all his homes. Well, the ones Ella knows of.

"How did you know about the house here?"

"Ranger has had me stock it before, and he wanted me to know where it was just in case I ever had to bring you here in a safe house situation."

Ah. "But there are other safe houses that RangeMan uses."

"Yes, but the beach house is the most secure. Known only to seven people, private access and a boat slip. If necessary, Ranger could secure you here and get you both out on a boat before anyone was the wiser."

He has extraction plans for his homes. Another thing to think about. Later.

"Who decorated this house, Ella?"

She beams. "I did. The best part of working for Ranger is the number of places I get to decorate!" We laugh. "I decorated the Miami office, the Trenton office, and all his homes. The Miami home was a chore because he'd only give me pictures and floor plans. I have no idea what my finished work looks like."

I decide that the next time we're in Miami, I'm taking pictures of the interior for Ella. This house in Point Pleasant is stunning, and it's really similar to the Miami house. On the water, boat slip, private beach, four bedrooms, five baths. I was too upset to really poke around last time I was here, but this time, I examine each room. Ella has exquisite taste. Each house is beautifully furnished and comfortable.

I bet she'd even find a way to make the hideous bathroom in my old apartment look good.

The rest of the weekend is spent relaxing and sunbathing. Ella and I hit the stores on the boardwalk and enjoy the scenery. It's the Jersey Shore so we have a lot of fun people watching. I spend time in the house napping or eating Ella's healthy meals and watching stupid stuff on TV. I spend time doing things that restore my sanity.

By the time we return to Trenton, I'm ready. When we arrive, Ella turns to me and passes me a piece of paper.

_Managing egos-the over- and under-inflated, the forceful and the fragile-is one of the great challenges facing any leader._

"This is the true demand of your position. It's the management of people and it's a tiresome duty. But, when done right and done well, it is an awesome responsibility that can give you a great deal of personal satisfaction."

* * *

The next morning my first stop is Hal's office. Hal spots me, stands up and immediately gives me a big bear hug. We stand there for a few minutes before I whisper, "Thank you."

"No problem," he whispers back. I let go and Hal closes his office door. "What do you need?" He sits down with his folio, ready to take notes. I make a mental note to find out Hal's birthday and get one embossed for him.

"I'm going to stay at RangeMan." Hal exhales and grins. "Yeah, thought I would tell you that first."

"I'm glad you did, Steph. I was worried you would leave. So, I'm guessing we're smothering you?"

I nod. "I'll get to that, but the first thing I want to know is what goals you've set for me passing standards?"

Hal sits back and looks serious. After a while he speaks. "I'm of two minds telling you. On one hand, I want you to know so you know what we're trying to get you to. On the other, I don't want you to stop trying just because you've reached the goal or gotten close."

Ella said the same thing. "I understand Hal, but part of my frustration comes from never knowing if I'm doing well or not. You know when you're doing well here every week when you get your numbers, or a skip is brought in or we get a new contract. I have no idea how I'm doing with standards. I need to know."

Hal looks at me quietly. Finally he starts writing some numbers. Hal has beautiful handwriting.

"In the military, you get a certain number of points for each item. The minimum passing score is 150 total. To get 150, the minimums for a woman your age are, in a two-minute cycle, 9 push-ups, 34 sit-ups, and a time of 23:06 minutes on the 2-mile run. Right now, you're clocking 20 pushups, 45 sit-ups, and 25 minutes on the run. You've got to get the run down. So your score right now is 171."

I grin and clap. I **have** passed the minimums in everything except the run! I feel fantastic. I look over at Hal, who is smiling back at me.

"OK, so where are you trying to get me? What's your goal?"

"The goal is to get you to the 65 point mark in each category. So that's 21 push-ups, 43 sit-ups and a 21:00 2-mile run and you're almost there in everything except the run."

My eyes widen at Hal, who blushes and nods. "RangeMan fitness standards call for 70 points in each category for men. Anything under puts you on probation until you meet again. That's why every man is in the gym every day. You can't afford to lose a training day."

I narrow my eyes. "My standards are the female ones, right?" Hal nods and I relax. "So, if I meet these standards, do you think that's the standard that will be set for women in the company?"

Hal shrugs. "I don't know. I think Tank and Bobby will take your opinion into consideration. The Army recently revised their standards to include pull-ups and rowing, which is why Sarah's had you working on both. Just in case."

I'm thinking that I'm not sure if I want 65 points set as the standard. Then again, I met the minimum requirements for everything except running and it **is** lower than the male standard, just barely. I think about that. I have to shave four minutes off my run. Yikes!

"Why did you set my standard lower?"

"Well, Sarah, Cal and I followed military standards on this. The military usually sets standards slightly lower for women."

Hal walks over to his computer and prints some pages. It's the military standards for men and women, side by side. The female standards are much lower, in some cases less than half the male standard. 26 pushups for the men vs. 9 for the women to get 50 points, the minimum for my age group. I'm slightly insulted for some reason and I frown at the paper.

Hal grins. "I can set your set your standard at 70, if you want."

I nod. "Yes. I'm a RangeMan . . . well, RangeWoman. The bias is already built in. Might as well meet the same requirements as everyone else."

Hal stares at me then smiles broadly. "CO, I've never been more proud of you than I am right now. I'll tell Sarah to get you to 70 points."

Good. I'm the CO. It's the right thing. Besides, 70 points is 23 pushups. I can squeeze out 3 more. I hope. I take a quick look at the other pages. 51 sit-ups and 20:12 on the run. _Sigh_. I hate running.

"OK. Let's talk about the second thing. I have no freedom." Hal looks solemn. "I can't go anywhere without a bodyguard, I don't see my family and friends like I used to, and I feel as if I'm living in a fishbowl. You've done a great job of making sure that everyone understands that once I hit 7, I'm unavailable, but I'm in this building all the time. I have to get out."

I sound as frustrated as I feel at the end of my sentence and Hal passes me his handkerchief. I smile.

"Completely off topic, but why does every RangeMan seem to have an inexhaustible supply of hankies?"

Hal laughs. "Multi-purpose tool. A hankie can be used for tears, but also as a rough water filtration tool, tourniquet, splint, bandage, dust mask, and, in extreme cases, toilet tissue." I look at the hankie and Hal chuckles. "Of course, after use as toilet tissue, you throw it away."

I'm still disturbed by the idea.

"SOPs call for every man to have at least three hankies at all times. You never know." Hal smiles. "Since you became CO, informal SOP in this office is five. We know you aren't a crier, but just in case . . ."

I laugh.

"So, we need to come up with a balance, right?"

"Yeah. Starting next week, I've rented a house in Point Pleasant for six weeks and I'm staying there. Hector will be nearby next week for 4th of July, but I've invited the XOs, strategists, and liaisons separately to the rental for a week. One, so I have a RangeMan partner with me while I'm there." Hal nods. "Two, so I can sit with each group face to face and talk to them one on one about the company, their goals and objectives, and where they think I can improve and what they need from me."

Hal writes notes, smiling.

"NYC taught me that I have to be prepared to back you guys up, so I need to know what you need. Three, some of you need a vacation, or at least some extended time out of the office. I looked and realized you haven't had a vacation in 3 ½ years. Did you realize that?"

Hal looks surprised and, after thinking about it, shakes his head. "No, I really haven't. I mean, I've been so busy here that I hadn't given it a real thought. Plus, each man gets a four day 'weekend' each month to make up for all the on-call duty."

"Well, I did notice this weekend. I realized that if I don't do something to encourage all of you not to live in the office, you'll burn out on me. I'm just getting used to you and Danny and Javier. I can't lose you now!" We laugh. "While I'm at the beach the first two weeks, I'll leave it to you and Hector to figure out a balance." Hal looks surprised and I smile. "Again, I'm trying to keep my promise to you. Left to me, I'd scream until you agreed to remove all my guards, but you and I both know that won't happen."

Hal grins. "Yeah. I might be able to remove all other RangeMen, but Hector would just look at me and raise an eyebrow. I _might_ be able to take Hector on the mats, but why lose my spleen trying to be right?"

We both burst into laughter.

I head back to my office, stop in the doorway and gape. A flower shop has exploded in my office. I walk in slowly and admire the offerings. There are roses, tulips, lilies and orchids everywhere. There are also a few potted houseplants in the office and I grin. I have my own botanical garden. I stop in front of one incredibly gorgeous spray of pink roses and purple freesias and look at the attached note.

_From the Miami Leadership_

_The beaches are beautiful right now, if you're interested!_

_Armando, Thomas, and Shane_

I grin and sniff the roses. Scented. This is wonderful. I check the next spray: tulips, lilies, and roses.

_From the Atlanta Leadership_

_The men demand the right to show you some more Southern Hospitality. They feel the Trenton men are doing a crap job of making you happy!_

_Danny, Chase, and Adam_

That causes me to laugh and I hear shuffling at my doorway. Junior and Ram are standing there, looking around.

"What happened here?"

"We decided you needed some cheering up. Problem is, we told the other Core Teams," Ram says, looking annoyed. "I promise you, this is teaching us to keep our mouths shut."

I laugh till I cry. Junior is less amused. "Seriously, Steph, this is about as bad as seeing you in NYC swag."

I find an envelope on the table. I open it to find that the NYC men have purchased a membership to the Grounds for Sculpture, in Hamilton, for me. It's about four miles from the office and I've heard the onsite restaurant is excellent. I do a little dance in front of the table and the guys groan.

"NYC?" Ram asks. I grin. "We hate them most of all. We didn't even _know_ there was a botanical garden in Trenton but somehow those busters found out."

I giggle and continue looking. There's a particular gorgeous display with gladiolus and roses and I eagerly read the card. I'm shocked.

_From the Boston Leadership_

_Our beaches might not be Miami gorgeous, but we guarantee it's a lot cooler here._

_From Mark, Pat, and Rod_

I look up and Hal is standing right inside my doorway. He grimaces. "They sent the potted plant behind you too." I look. It's a pretty plant, big and made entirely of green leaves. I turn back to Hal, wide-eyed.

"Only because it was for you did it make it into the building," he grumbles.

Junior snorts. "Only because it was for you did we not decimate it. It was the last plant to arrive. We feel we're being invaded."

I smile. Well…maybe I should think about asking Mark for his opinions more often. This was sweet.

I look around my gorgeous office and watch as Ella walks in and stops in her tracks.

"Someone's wedding is short a few dozen roses," she says, looking around wide-eyed. She turns to the guys and says "_Le puse en tus manos muy capaces y no me decepcionaste._" (I put it into your very capable hands and you did not let me down.) They blush and grin and everyone except Ella leaves my office. We stand and admire my flowers.

I got parts of that sentence. Time to restart the Spanish lessons.

* * *

The rest of the week is much better. I'm calm again so the men stop tip-toeing around me and start joking with me again. Hector and I restart the Spanish lessons and I'm surprised to realize that for at least 30 minutes we have a conversation entirely in Spanish. I only realize what happened when Hal enters the office and joins the conversation and I'm lost again, which makes Hector smile. Hal is the only person who knows about the Spanish lessons and Hector wants to keep it that way. Hal and Hector have agreed that when I travel to Miami, they will both be at my back.

Sarah is slightly peeved that I missed three days of training so I apologize and tell her I needed a mental health break. She stares at me hard, nods, then starts her grueling regime again. At the end of it, she tells me to do whatever it was I did more often, as I shaved a full minute off the two mile run and I was much more focused during the push up and sit ups, managing three more of each. I can't help but grin ear to ear hearing that and she smiles.

"Seriously Stephanie, your mental fitness is just as important as the physical fitness. Whatever you did, it worked, so if you need some time off, just call me and let me know. It does mean that I'm going to expect to see some real improvement when you come back," she grins evilly, "but I think we're getting close to the end of the boring exercise regime."

Great, Sarah. I learned that from Ella but thanks for finally telling me. I tell her about the beach house plans and give her the six weeks off, which she happily accepts. I have RangeMen; I know they'll force me to exercise each day. We also discuss the possibility of her doing contract work with the NYC RangeMen. She's thrilled to be able to work with us and with her client at the same time, so I tell her to discuss the contract with Hal and Tank. She walks out smiling and I lie back on the gym floor and grin.

I'm still in a glass cage and I don't have my independence back yet, but I can at least see freedom in the distance.

* * *

**A/N: I've eaten at Rat's restaurant and toured Grounds for Sculpture when I was based in Trenton. If you are ever in the Trenton/Hamilton area, it is worth the stop. I chose the destination for my beloved ****co-worker's retirement party and it was a **_**stellar**_** night. FYI, 'Rat's' refers to the character from Wind in the Willows.**

**Also, if you're trying to figure out how and why Miami and Boston sent flowers: Diego mentioned to Armando that they were sending the CO a 'cheer-up' gift of flowers. Miami arranged theirs then Mando told Mark to send the CO a floral arrangement to cheer her up. Mark and Pat arranged to send a flower and a houseplant. That's why all five groups sent a gift and note.**

**This week? Two stories, FIVE side-stories. Two Lula/Tank, two Housekeepers' War, one Connie (yup! Connie!). Please PM brownc0at and tell her how much you appreciate her. Without her editing, commas would be EVERYWHERE!**


	52. Holidays on Ice, Part I

**Chapter 52 Holidays on Ice**

**Frank's POV**

A week at the beach. Normally this would be great, but it's a week at the beach with Edna, Kloughn, and the entire estrogen clan.

I'm taking all my scotch and cigars.

Helen has been excited ever since Pumpkin called to say she'd rented a house at Point Pleasant for a week. My wife has been packing, cooking, planning and directing her mother and Sunshine with all the fervor of a newly minted general out for his first battle. Edna has been over here daily, clogging up my bathroom and getting in the way, helping Helen pack sheets, pillows, blankets–just about half our house. Sunshine brings her girls over, all three of them, and helps her mother out by cooking and packing our cookware and dishes.

I'm almost certain Pumpkin said this place was furnished. Why do we need all this stuff?

At any rate, I've been told to stay out the way and not open any boxes so Helen could keep her list in order. Fine. I'll hang out in the garage. In the meantime, I've been trying to estimate Pumpkin's salary. The moment Pumpkin gave her mother the address, I went to the cab company and looked the place up on the computer. The pictures online showed a great looking house, 5 bedrooms, 3 baths (THANK YOU, PUMPKIN!) and a rental price of $3200 a month.

I choked on my coffee. Christ! That used to be my monthly gross when I worked at the Post Office.

So if Pumpkin can afford to pay that for one month at the beach, then she has to be making six figures at RangeMan. My daughter. My Pumpkin. A serious career woman making six figures. I smiled the entire day, which made Helen suspicious. Thankfully, she waited until her loudmouth mother left before she asked.

"OK, Frank. You've been smiling all day. What's going on?"

I pretend to be insulted. "What? Can't a man smile in peace?"

Helen narrows her eyes. "Talk. Or I . . . I . . . I send the desserts to RangeMan."

They won't eat them. That's a waste. "The house has three bathrooms."

Helen looks at me with narrowed eyes. I can see she's considering the options. True, that would be enough to make me grin, but grin like I have been all day? No, she knows something is up.

"Yes, I know, Frank. Now tell me the truth. What has you so happy?" Helen turns to stuff another towel into a box.

"I'm trying to guess Pumpkin's salary."

She looks up. "And?"

"I'll let you do the math. House at the beach is $3200 a month. Pumpkin can afford to rent it without asking everyone to pitch in. Do some quick math."

Helen's eyebrows furrow. She sits at the table and thinks. I watch as she multiplies the house rental out to a yearly. Her eyebrows shoot up. Then I watch her do some quick thinking and her eyes light up.

"Frank . . ." her voice is breathless. She looks astonished.

"Exactly," I reply smugly. "Those men are paying our daughter her worth. Whatever it is, it's a great paycheck, and she has no expenses except rent and utilities on her old apartment for your mother. That's what, $1000 a month? Everything else she gets to stash away." I grin and walk into the kitchen for the scotch. I fill two highball glasses with ice and walk back into the living room, where Helen is looking up in wonder. I place the glasses in front of her, fill them, and lift one.

"To Ranger and the men of RangeMan. God Bless them all!"

I down my shot in one gulp.

* * *

After Mass on Sunday, I've just started loading up our Buick with all of Helen's 'Must Have' supplies when I get a very welcome set of visitors. Henry, Angelo, and Ramsay show up with an SUV and a van to help us move our supplies. The men are smiling.

Henry. "Mr. Plum, sir. How are you today?"

"Doing well, boys, doing well. Have you come to assist?"

"Yes sir," Ramsay replies, taking the box from me. Thank god. My arm was going numb. "Just need to know how you would like to get these packed and we'll follow you out to Point Pleasant."

I nod. "Where's Pumpkin and Hector? Half expected to see them show."

Angelo replies, "_Stanno già fuori a Point Pleasant, signore. Stephanie aveva bisogno di firmare il contratto di noleggio e ottenere le chiavi, così Hector ha presa là fuori. Inoltre, Hector sarà alloggiato vicino, in modo che è andato avanti e ha preso la sua roba così ha potuto ottenere risolta dentro,_" (They're already out at Point Pleasant, sir. Stephanie needed to sign the rental agreement and get the keys, so Hector took her out there. Also, Hector will be staying close by, so they went ahead and took his stuff so he could get settled in.)

I love when Angelo shows, and he tells me that there is one more Italian man at RangeMan. I can't wait to meet him. I could never get Sunshine or Pumpkin interested in speaking Italian and it's nice to have someone to chat with. I knew Morelli knew, so I used it to occasionally tell him how much I still wanted to put a bullet in his brain. Just so he understood that the Tasty Pastry incident had not been forgiven by me.

I nod and call back into the house for Helen. She comes out and is surprised to see RangeMen numbering her boxes.

"Ma'am, if you have a list of what's in each box, we'll go ahead and label and stack these in the van so you are packed and ready to leave," Ramsay says. Angelo and Henry have not stopped tagging items.

Helen hands over the list wordlessly and the boys begin identifying boxes and loading the van. A job that might have taken me about an hour or more they have completed in 20 minutes. I'm shaking my head and I turn to speak to Helen only to realize she's gone. I walk back into the kitchen and my wife has started a full Sunday brunch for the boys. I grin and walk back outside.

"Seems my wife would like to thank you by inviting you to Sunday brunch. Have a few moments?"

Ramsay and Angelo look at Henry, who checks his phone. "They're still waiting on the realtor." He shrugs and gives a tiny smile. "We'd be honored, sir. Does your wife need us to go grab anything?"

I motion for them to follow me in. Helen has coffee, tea, and pastries ready, is putting scrambled and poached eggs onto a platter and is frying steaks and stirring oatmeal. The men look on approvingly.

"Here, boys, sit and eat. I'll have the steaks done in a moment and I'll grab the orange juice." Helen is a whirlwind. She's spent a lot of time on the phone with Ella, the RangeMan housekeeper, and learned a lot of new recipes. She has begun to appreciate having the RangeMen at the table because it's an entirely new group of eager mouths to feed. Plus, the RangeMen **always** compliment her cooking and offer to clear the table. Little things like that remind me to thank my wife for her meals, but I told her to use those new recipes on Pumpkin and the boys. I prefer meat and gravy.

As usual, the boys do a great job of eating everything Helen places on their plates and offer to clear the table, but Helen has it under control. We're just waiting for the Kloughns (I can't believe my daughter married a man named Kloughn) and Edna. The minivan (Kloughn kar?) pulls up and everyone piles out. Edna is wearing her beach attire: a hot pink swimsuit with a white crochet cover up. I'm not sure I have enough scotch to forget that sight and I hear a small whimper behind me.

"One more, for me, please," I whisper. I hear three more whimpers.

* * *

**Edna's POV**

Thank God! I love my great granddaughters, but five more minutes with them and I would choke both Mary Alice and Angela. Lisa's constant screaming didn't help either.

It amazes me how Valerie went from being a calm, cool, collected mother and wife to a barely in control scatterbrain. I always knew husbands were hazardous to your health, but this takes the cake. Albert is a child himself, and it's as if my granddaughter knows and accepts that she now has five children. I'm not fooled; I see that pudge in her midsection. Apparently, ole' Albert might have enough balls to manage to knock her up again. God, I hope not.

I climb out of the minivan at Helen's and stretch my legs. Frank is standing on the lawn with three RangeMen and they all look stunned. I grin. I knew I looked good in this swimsuit. Wait till they see the bikini!

"Frank! I know I look good but you don't have to do the fish impression just for me." I smile and strike a Bette Davis pose and watch as all four men shut their mouths with a snap. Helen comes out the front door, locks it and frowns at me.

"Mother! For goodness sakes, what on earth will the neighbors say? You're parading around half dressed! This isn't the beach! Get back in the van or get in the Buick! What on earth are you doing?"

"Trying to stretch my legs! I was cooped up in that minivan."

"Well, that's no reason to parade around half dressed! It's 90 minutes to Stephanie's rental. Why didn't you wear comfortable clothes for this trip? And we may stop on the way there! We'll need to get food and sun block . . . " Helen continues to chatter while I mentally block her.

"Grandma, it's only a 10 minute ride from your apartment to here," Val says. She, too, is stretching, which lifts her shirt slightly. I see the moment Frank and Helen notice the pudge and Helen trails off, staring.

"Um …Sunshine? You have some news for us?" Frank asks cautiously. I see the RangeMen poke each other.

Val shifts, nervously, and blushes. "Well . . . " she smiles, "I just found out I'm," Albert clears his throat, "sorry dear, we're having a baby!"

I'm sure I look as pole-axed as Frank and Helen. I know love is supposed to be all you need, but money helps. These two are constantly short on that necessity. How is another baby going to help? Good Lord.

I suppose the silence has gone on too long because Valerie's face begins to fall. From the inside of the minivan, we can hear Angie yell, "Yeah, that was our reaction too. Me and MA."

Angie's comment spurs Helen into action. "Oh, Valerie." She's all smiles. No matter what, a baby is a precious life to be blessed and appreciated. "Congratulations! Are you OK? When are you due? Do you need anything?"

Helen and Valerie start chatting about baby items and I move near Frank. We look at each other.

"Scotch has been packed."

Damn.

* * *

**Helen's POV**

I need a drink. How on earth does my daughter continue to reproduce with Albert? I'm not trying to be judgmental, but he lacks any real markers of manliness. Frank, in his prime, was a stud. Both Joseph and Ranger are prime examples of manliness, as are the RangeMen, but Albert?

Well, I guess that just goes to show. My daughters can pick 'em. Stephanie picks the ones who look like men. Valerie picks the ones who prove it. Well, at least she's married and has children. Stephanie will get there someday, I hope.

I'm making small talk with my daughter while trying to remember where I packed the emergency bottle of Wild Turkey. I'll need a hit the moment I can get away. This has already been one hell of a morning.

On the positive side, I must admit that, since I've started treating the RangeMen better, my life has improved in ways I didn't expect. First, they're appreciative of my meals and they're vocal about it. Their good manners have forced the rest of my family to display theirs, with the result that, for the first time in years, I'm actually being complimented and thanked for dinner. Our family meals are entirely different now.

That was an eye-opener. Far from being thugs, they are quiet, polite, and well-mannered young men who always offer to assist and always send a thank you card after every meal. I had not realized how much I missed being complimented and appreciated for the hard work that I put in.

It forced me to overcome my disdain for their housekeeper at RangeMan and actually call and talk to her. That was the second surprise. Mrs. Guzman was just as polite and friendly as the men she cares for and she's a dietician. She came over a few times, while Frank was at the cab company, shortly after Stephanie started at RangeMan to help me pick out appropriate meals for Stephanie and the RangeMen.

I confided that I might try to use some of them on Frank, as his doctor had just informed him that he **had** to get his blood pressure numbers down. She pulled out a binder of heart-healthy recipes and I've been slipping those meals into the rotation, with the result that Frank's numbers were down slightly at his next check-up. Her recipes are so good Frank barely even notices they're healthy, so I'm anxious to contact her again for some more recipes. The day I slipped a Salisbury steak in on him made partially of mushrooms was the day I realized that my meat and potatoes husband could be fooled into eating healthier.

I'm not going to say that I'm fully a RangeMan fan, but I acknowledge that there are more positives than negatives to Stephanie working there.

Third, they're willing to help. I was shocked to see them show up with a van and an SUV this morning. I'd spent the night trying to figure out how Frank and I were going to get our things to Stephanie's rental. Even stuffing some things in the minivan, we might need to make two trips. Now, we only need to make one and everything will be delivered.

I couldn't think of any way to thank them except to feed them. I'm still surprised they just jumped right in and had us packed and ready so quickly.

Finally, Frank's thrilled when they come over and he talks when they're around. I realized that all my husband's childhood friends were either dead (Mob), in jail (Mob) or moved away (Witness Protection). His remaining friends are the men from the cab company and our married friends, and none of those men are likely to show up at our dinner table. The RangeMen are the sons he always wanted but we could never have. Plus, he's thrilled whenever Angelo shows up so he has someone to speak to in Italian. I wonder why he never spoke to Joseph in Italian and make a note to ask him later.

I'm not sure what they're paying Stephanie, but I agree with Frank: It must be at least six figures. I hope she's being responsible with her money and saving just in case she doesn't have this job in a year but in the meantime, I'm happy that's she's getting training and learning how to be a better bounty hunter. It makes conversations at Giovichinni's a lot easier.

* * *

Flashback Section—The day of Plum Dinner Fun, Part III

"Helen!"

Lovely. Emily Restler. She loves to poke me about the fact that her daughter is still married to her first husband, with three children and a nice safe teller job at the bank. I usually have to grit my teeth when she gets started on my daughters, but not today. I have ammo.

"Helen, how are you?"

"I'm wonderful, Emily. How are you?"

"Doing well, dear. Doing well. Just here to pick up some lunch meat for the babies." She smiles, like a shark. "Dear Susan is having another. A second boy, you know. Don and I are so proud." She smiles beatifically and I smile back, pleasantly.

"Congratulations. Six grandchildren, how wonderful. You barely look old enough to be a grandmother," I reply, a subtle reference to her senior year pregnancy with Susan and Susan's senior year pregnancy with her oldest.

Her smile dims slightly. "Yes, I'm glad. I'll be the youngest looking grandma around."

My mother, bless her, decides to help in her usual way. "Yeah, and when your oldest granddaughter gets knocked up at 17, you'll be the youngest great-grandmother around too! Only a few months to go, right?"

Bless you, Mother. Emily turns red and the people around us turn quickly to hide their smiles.

"Good to see you too, Edna. Tell me, how are your granddaughters doing?"

Oh Mother, please don't screw this up. I haven't had such good ammo in . . . well, since Stephanie married Richard.

"I'm having a grand time! Got me a hot new bachelorette pad, thanks to my baby granddaughter. I know you saw the press release. Stephanie's in charge of RangeMan and all those hot RangeMen from Miami to Boston. My baby granddaughter, in charge of a multimillion dollar company and hundreds of hot sexy men with guns!" Mother cackles and I smile. Perfect delivery Mother! "Susan just gets to count the money but my baby is in charge of making it!"

Excellent! Emily turns beet red while I paste a pleasant smile on my face. Mother is doing this so much better than I could.

"Well, let's hope she makes it more quietly than her previous job—"Emily begins, but Mother cuts her off.

"Nope. I doubt it. This is Stephanie we're talking about. Ranger is no fool and neither are his partners in the business. Stephanie had a 100% success rate as a bounty hunter, and they know she'll bring her talents and skills to RangeMan and make lots of loud money for them too!"

Everyone in Giovichinni's is straining to hear this conversation. Seeing that continuing to talk with Mother will only lead to embarrassment, Emily turns to me.

"Well, Helen, you must be thrilled that Stephanie has a nice safe desk job now. No more calls that she's been shot or blown something up or lost a car. You and Frank must be thrilled."

Emily, I can't thank you enough for the setup. "I'm happy Stephanie has this job, but it's not a desk job. She's working more on the company matters right now, but the men are training her to their standards. I expect she'll be back on the streets with them very soon, hunting down criminals." I smile and watch as Mother grins approvingly at me. "Actually, I can't wait to see it. I've always wanted Stephanie to get a little more training and I expect she'll be a force to be reckoned with when she gets back on the streets. Besides, Stephanie has that 100% capture rate to uphold and she hates being tied down. I don't think it will take very long."

"But still, she's in charge of a—" Emily stops, thinks, and turns to Mother. "Did you say multi-**million** dollar company?"

We both nod and grin. "Five locations and hundreds of men. She just got back from her first management trip to Atlanta. The men there love her. She came home with RangeMan Atlanta . . ." I can't remember the word and look over at Mother.

"Swag. You know, hats, shirts, all that stuff." Mother grins and adjusts her dentures discreetly.

The line at Giovichinni's has ground to a halt. Even Gina has stopped slicing meat to listen.

"Well, how nice." Emily is at a loss for words and I can't wait to get home and crow. Finally! No more embarrassment at Giovichinni's! Suddenly, Emily looks up and smiles pityingly. "Well, since poor Joseph has disappeared, I suppose her relationship with him is over."

I blink. Damn! I wasn't ready for that but thankfully, Mother jumps in.

"Thank goodness for it too. That boy wasn't going to come up to scratch and I'm not fond of the idea of being related to Bella."

Everyone in Giovichinni's shivers.

"Me and Frank, we're hoping that Stephanie's friendship with Ranger goes somewhere, but Helen here," Mother looks at me hard. I know that look. It says 'play along'. "Helen just wants Stephanie to concentrate on being a career woman for a little while. Being in charge of a big successful company like RangeMan will put Stephanie in front of other rich, successful men. Hell, Stephie might be able to find someone much better than anything that Trenton can offer. Stephie's got a lot to offer the right man."

That is why I love my mother. She covered for me with an explanation that was so good even **I** believed it.

With that, Helen is done. Her face is pink again and she's turned to Gina to give her order. When it's our turn, Gina Giovichinni-Lorenzo smiles at me and asks me to tell Stephanie she said hello and good luck. On our way back home, Mother turns to me.

"You better anticipate every snide remark everyone might come at you with for a while. It was clear you weren't ready for that question, Helen, but I was." Mother suddenly smiles, a soft smile I haven't seen in a while. "It was nice to see you stick up for Stephie back there. Quit letting other people tear your daughter down. I've never let them do it to you."

I blink. "Me? What do you mean?"

Mother snorts. "What? You think you haven't been the subject of gossip all these years? Everyone wanted to know what kind of mother **you** were since Stephanie couldn't seem to do her job without blowing something up, getting hurt, etc. and so forth. What kind of morals did you teach your girls, since Val had Lisa **right** after she married Albert and Stephanie? Well, Stephanie's behavior with Joe and Ranger has made people wonder who was really at fault in her divorce from Dickie. Trenton is a political town, Helen, and people love to gossip but they know better than to do it in front of me. I cut everyone who gossips about you, Stephanie, or Valerie off at the knees."

I continue to drive home in shame. Mother is right. I've spent the last few years moaning about the fact that Stephanie wouldn't get a different job to anyone who would listen. The gossip about her is vicious but I've fed it. I wanted her to give that job up, get married, and be safe. I still want her to get married and be safe, but I can tolerate the job if she stops getting hurt. Now that she has this job I'm going to have to work twice as hard to prove I believe Stephanie can do it. Worse is the fact that everyone, like Emily, will believe I only want her to succeed in this job because she's behind a desk. That's not true! I just want her to stop getting hurt. I don't want her to be stalked anymore. I want her to live a normal, quieter life. Being stalked by crazies is **not** a normal life!

Well, I'm not sure she can do the job but that wasn't my call. That was Ranger's and Frank has forced me to admit that he always comes through for her. He always backs her up and gives her what she needs. If he thinks she can run his company, I need to start **believing** she can run his company.

I walk into the house and find my whiskey. I pour myself a double and knock it back in one quick gulp.

If I truly want to support my daughter and encourage her to get better at this job, to help her stay alive, then the first thing I have to do is make sure she understands that it's important. The RangeMen are coming to dinner tonight. Time for me to find out what Stephanie has learned and encourage her, if I can.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Stephanie calls her father and says she has the keys and we're free to come to the house. We all pile into the cars, Mother climbing in with me and Frank. Darn. I wanted to talk to Frank on the ride up but with Mother in the car, he won't say a word.

Two hours later (one stop for both Valerie and Lisa), we arrive at the rental and gape. It's a stunning house and a wonderful location. I can see the ocean from the driveway. Stephanie walks out and greets us, well, her father and me. Valerie has rushed inside in search of a bathroom.

"What's with her?" Stephanie asks. Her sister nearly pushed her into the ground trying to run in.

"Baby," Frank says, shaking his head.

"Lisa needs a change that badly?"

"That too," Mother replies, shaking her head.

Stephanie looks at all of us in confusion. She finally turns to Henry, who grimaces.

"Cal."

This must mean something to Stephanie because her eyes get big and she turns back around to me. "Val's pregnant? Again?"

"Yeah," Angie replies. She and Mary Alice have walked over and are hugging their aunt around the waist.

Stephanie looks stunned, but she turns to look at her nieces. "You girls must be thrilled."

Both girls look at her and roll their eyes. "Nice try, Auntie Steph, but you missed believable by a mile," Mary Alice says.

Stephanie bites her lip trying not to laugh and pulls out her phone. "OK, well, run inside and pick out your bedroom. You two will have to share but there are two bedrooms with twin beds." She types something into her phone and the girls take off.

Moments later, Hector appears with glasses of ice and a bottle of whiskey. Stephanie smiles and turns to Henry. "Can you explain it to him?" Henry nods and while Frank, Mother, and I finally take those long awaited gulps, the RangeMen give Hector a short explanation. He looks at us, looks at Stephanie and his coworkers and disappears back into the house. He reappears a short time later with a tray containing tequila, orange juice and more glasses.

I don't care that he doesn't speak English. He knows liquor and he's rapidly becoming my favorite RangeMan.

* * *

**Ram's POV**

I'm grateful I'm getting another look at the beach house Stephanie has rented for six weeks. Hector brought us up here two days ago, after Ella gave him the address, and he, Zip, Hal and I did a preliminary security assessment on the house.

Our conclusion? Security nightmare.

It's in the middle of a block of homes, so establishing a guard without Steph knowing will be impossible. In traffic from Ranger's house, Hector tells us it is a 15 minute drive. Since the location of Ranger's Point Pleasant home is classified, Hector will be her only protection up here for a week.

We know Hector is deadly but he's 15 minutes away. We're nervous.

We didn't have the authority to wire the place for security until Steph took possession of the keys, but now that she's onsite, we'll have to wait until she leaves before we can wire the place for a 24-hour guard. This means we'll have to be extra sneaky to do it. She just blew up ten days ago and the last thing we want is for her to feel we're smothering her, but we need to know she's safe. Our lives aren't worth living if something happens to her.

This is frustrating but Hal's taking it in stride. As the former head of the security installs unit, he's accustomed to assessing and mentally mapping a house for security. I couldn't understand how a guy who built bombs found this work interesting, but he told me it was the same skill-set. When we assessed the house last week, he explained to us what he was doing.

"The important thing to remember in an implosion is that you only want to take down what you're assigned," he stated. "So when you assess a target for implosion, you look for weak points and natural points of defense. Look for possible sources of collateral damage and seek to minimize. Use nature to your advantage whenever possible. Use enough explosives to get the job done but not so many that it's overkill, and if you're doing this under fire, do it fast and be prepared for something to go wrong. This is where my attention to detail has always helped.

So when I assess a client, or in this case, our CO, for security, I'm looking for places to hide the wires and the cameras. Ways to source power and hide it where it won't be found but where we can remove it when the lease is up. Eliminate ideas we can't use, like the guard we used to have on her apartment, and replace it with motion-activated cameras and sound monitoring. She'll find all these ideas completely invasive so we'll have to sell this to her gently. It has to be done and we'll walk a fine line between giving her privacy and assuring her safety, but at the end of the day, she's not offline. Her protection is simply a few miles away instead of on-site."

Hal grinned and looked at me. "That's why you're here, Silver Tongue. Your job is to tell her."

Zero laughs and Hal smirks. I considered this. I was being given the suicide job. I considered flipping Hal the finger but realized I could make out like a bandit here. "I'll consider it if I'm not still being considered for payback for the party."

I watched Hal consider it. I hoped he would agree. I'd been looking over my shoulder ever since. "Agreed."

Thank god. Now to walk into range of the firing squad.

I wait until Steph is making an escape from her family to move in. She's at the side of the house looking at the street.

"Steph?"

She whirls around, eyes wide. "Ram, tell me, why on earth did I agree to host my family in my hiding spot for a week?" Steph looks a little wound up, so I turn her back around and start giving her a shoulder massage.

"Because you love them. Because you haven't seen them in a while. Because it's a major holiday celebrated with fireworks and cotton candy and hot dogs and barbeque. You'll sit on the beach and soak up the sun, a vacation for a week if you will, and watch your family act insane. Your mother will cook food that all of us will have to forget you ate this week and your grandma will display a succession of highly embarrassing bikinis that will remind you that getting on the treadmill now will delay the sag."

Throughout my little pep talk, Steph's been calming down. Now she's started laughing.

"Your father will find the one place in that house to hide and you'll join him and smoke a cigar or two. You'll chase your nieces on the beach, you will avoid diaper duty like the plague, and you'll make polite noises when your sister starts talking about pregnancy and childbirth and remember that watching your sister's water break made Cal faint dead away."

Steph's turned back around and she laughing against my chest while I rub her back. I'm trying hard not to laugh myself. Cal's not lived that down yet.

"You'll watch your brother-in-law drop all his meals into his lap and your mother will clean like a maid regardless of the fact that you hired maid service—"

"How did you know I hired a maid service?" Steph says, looking up at me suspiciously.

"Ella," I reply calmly. "You attract weirdoes. Our job is to ensure your safety."

She looks like she's winding up to yell when she calms back down. "You find anything?"

"As long as Nancy is the only one in the house, we're fine. She's a sole proprietorship, so we don't expect problems. If she shows up with someone let us know, Steph." She pouts. "Seriously. We cleared her but no one else."

"Well, I guess I can live with it. I admit I've been staring into corners and trees trying to find the cameras."

Good segue. "Speaking of which—"

She groans. "Please tell me you haven't."

"We haven't." She smiles. "We've been assessing and planning for it."

"Ram! That isn't fair." Steph exhales and I hand her my handkerchief. It's quiet for a moment before she speaks. "The entire point of renting this house was to get away from all the monitoring and security. To feel free again. To enjoy a weekend at the beach with my family without feeling under guard."

"Says the woman with six trackers currently on her body." Steph glares at me. "Sorry, but this is a reality of your life right now, but Hal and I want to talk to you about some limits. We recognize that we can't put a guard on the house and if we go overboard wiring for security you may run away from us never to return, so we want to discuss it with you. Come up with a level of security that we can all live with. At least hear us out, Steph."

Steph turns toward the road and stares out. After a few minutes she speaks. "What are you planning?"

Zero and Hal join us and speaks up. "Well, I've assessed and this is what I'm thinking. I want to establish a light perimeter, cameras on the house directed at points of entry, motion activated only. We'll put sound monitoring on the house, recorded, but not actively monitored. Most importantly, we'll establish a household panic button wired to three spots in the house and your phone. We'll wire the interior for cameras that will only record when that button is activated and everything will be recorded from that moment. It will also alert RangeMan to send a security force stat. Workable?"

Steph is silent. "So, you're only recording who walks in and out the house?" We nod. "You're recording conversations in the house but they'll only be reviewed if something happens, no live eavesdropping?" We nod. "And three panic buttons that work like my personal panic button?" We nod. Steph thinks. "Will it update Hector too?"

"Yes," Hal replies. He stops to think. "The sound monitoring will be disabled at night once RangeMen are present."

Silence. Finally, she sighs. "OK, that's workable." Thank God. I had nothing else lined up. "How much time do you guys need in order to set this up?"

"We brought everything with us. Your mother wants to grill tonight, so if you can keep everyone out the house for about an hour, we'll wire the place. We can start wiring the yard now and get all the cables buried and the backup generator in place."

Steph nods, reluctantly. I smile at her. "Hey, think about it. No RangeMen sitting in a car outside the house, none of us onsite until your family leaves, and no one is actively monitoring the house. The most that might catch our eyes is the sight of your grandma walking in and out in a bikini. Please tell her to wear clothes."

Zero, Hal and I shiver while Steph laughs.

The hot pink swimsuit was enough. I need a drink.


	53. Holidays on Ice, Part II

**A/N: Sorry I'm late (_cringes_). This morning has been insane.**

* * *

**Chapter 53 Holidays on Ice, Part II**

**Frank's POV**

There isn't enough scotch in the world to eliminate what I've seen this week.

I love my wife, but looking at my mother-in-law, I dread getting older. There are just some things no man wants to see, and Edna's chicken legs and flabby skin ranks high. Helen's had to rub my back each night and promise me she won't parade around in bikinis like that.

My Pumpkin is a lifesaver. She gave the master bedroom to me and her mother, which meant the attached bathroom was ours to control. I immediately locked access to it from the hallway so I could enjoy waking up and having access to my bathroom the moment I needed it. The rest of the family was forced to share the remaining two bathrooms.

Perhaps it's evil of me, but I enjoyed listening to Edna and Sunshine fight it out that first morning. Pregnant woman versus elderly woman. I smiled. Helen looked at me disapprovingly, but before she could open her mouth, I cut her off.

"No. We spend too much time giving up everything to everyone else. If you invite one of them to use our bathroom, they'll use that invitation for the rest of the week and **I'll** end up fighting with one of them. There are three bathrooms in this house and only two are being fought over. Let it rest." I smiled and considered this, then turned to Helen, who looked angry. "I'll share with Pumpkin. That's it. Since she rented the house and is allowing us to stay, she can use the master bath. No one else, Helen, and I mean this."

"You've never been pregnant. Valerie needs the bathroom when she needs it. She doesn't have time to fight with Mother over it."

"Then Edna should allow her to have it. Edna's been pregnant. She should understand, but instead she's fighting with Valerie for the bathroom."

"Mother's old. Her bladder isn't what it used to be. She needs the bathroom when she needs it."

I blew an exasperated breath. "You see how that argument can go on all day? There are **two** more bathrooms in this house, not one. They don't have to use the same bathroom. That's why I'm stopping it now. Pumpkin shares with us. No one else." There was a tap at the door. "Who is it?"

"Valerie."

"NO! Use one of the other bathrooms!"

"They're full, Daddy! Albert's shaving in one and Grandma's in the other."

"He's your husband. You can pee in front of him. Our bathroom is off-limits!" I glared at Helen as she opened her mouth. "I mean it," I hissed. "I'll leave and go back to Trenton before I share that bathroom."

Helen's nostrils flared and she glared at me, but she said nothing.

"Mommy?"

"Share with Albert, dear," Helen said. "Your father is determined not to share his bathroom." I was kicked in the shins but I didn't give a damn.

I lay back on the pillow and smiled. My bathroom was mine (and Helen's and Pumpkin's) for the rest of the week.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Valerie and Grandma enacted WWIII over the bathrooms for four days. Daddy explained that I was the only person being granted access to the master bath and he'd appreciate if I kept it from Valerie and Grandma. I was grateful. The girls completely soaked one bathroom to discourage Grandma from using it. I thought that was pretty funny when they explained it.

"You know old people are afraid of falling," Mary Alice said. "Just in case they can't get up."

I choked back laughs, but they were right. After Grandma slipped and nearly fell (Albert just happened to be walking by at the right moment), she avoided that bathroom like the plague, even after Val made the girls clean it up. Albert shared with the girls, which they didn't like (they spent the week looking for ways to kick him out) but they had to tolerate it.

The other bathroom was the site of twice daily fights until the morning Valerie peed herself waiting. Valerie had locked Grandma out the night before to take a long bath, so the next morning Grandma took 30 minutes in the bathroom. Grandma looked a little embarrassed by that and they finally came to a truce: use the bathroom and get out.

Four days. It took four days for nine people to learn to share three bathrooms.

* * *

Ram's description of my week with the family was pretty accurate. Albert dropped every meal on the floor, on his pants, on some horizontal surface. I'm surprised he's as pudgy as he is. It doesn't really seem as if food makes it into his mouth, but I know it has to. He hasn't lost any weight. Otherwise, he spent his time burning food on the little charcoal grill (before Daddy banned him) and obeying Val's orders.

Mom cooked and cleaned and basically did the same things she does at home. I tried to encourage her to take a break and sit on the beach with us, but she was happier doing what she was doing, so I left her to it. I took the girls to walk along the boardwalk and we ate from every vendor. Hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza, cotton candy, meat on a stick–it was great. We swam in the ocean, sunbathed, and built sandcastles.

The girls confided that they were not looking forward to the new baby. Val and Albert were already having money problems, and the girls had been told they would have to give up some of their favorite activities, like roller skating on the weekends and going to the movies. I told them I would try to work my schedule out to take them and it would be our thing to do. They were thrilled, and I was grateful to have another reason to spend time with them and get out of the building. I made a note to talk to Val about paying for gymnastics classes for the girls, so they had something to do.

Ella was right. My body was not used to greasy food anymore, damn it. Diarrhea and constipation all week but I enjoyed it going down. I thought about what she said about the standards, so I hauled myself out of bed every morning and went running along the beach. Running in sand is much harder than running on a treadmill so after 30 minutes, I gave up. I did my pushups and sit ups in the driveway and Mom noticed on Day Two.

"Do you think you could do those a bit closer to the house? Just in case someone pulls into the driveway?"

I nodded, exhausted. She sat a bowl of oatmeal (oatmeal? Mom and Ella **cannot **talk ever again) in front of me.

"How many of those do you have to do?"

I looked at my mother in surprise. "Umm. . . I need to be able to do 23 push-ups and 51 sit-ups in 2minutes. I'm already managing the pushups. I've just got to get five more sit-ups in." She nodded. The next morning, as I hauled my exhausted body into the driveway, Mom was standing there with Daddy's watch.

"I'll time you."

I looked at her, stunned, but nodded. I did the pushups and waited.

"25."

Great. I flipped over and did the sit ups.

"48."

I flopped back. So close! Mom walked over with a cool cloth and some water. "You're getting there. Just keep at it."

I stared at her. Who **are** you?

"Your mother. Now come on, let's get breakfast started."

* * *

Dad and I sat at the table in the back yard and smoked a cigar. He poured a finger of whiskey and we enjoyed the evening breeze.

"Good job, Pumpkin."

I looked over. I can't remember the last time I heard Daddy say that. He smiled and flicked the ashes from his cigar.

"I don't know what you're doing in that building, with the company, but every time you tell me and your mother about some new skill, we're proud. We've wanted you to do this for a long time."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked quietly, looking back toward the house.

"Had to be your decision," he replied. I looked over at him. My father's face could be carved in stone, for all the emotion on it. "I'm not your mother. I won't tell you what to do with your life. I'll tell you what I think only when you ask me but otherwise? Otherwise it's your life to live and your decisions to make. You have to live with them."

I thought about that then asked, "Do you think I should get another job?"

He looked at me. "Do you enjoy your job?"

"Yes."

"Can you live off what you earn?"

"With Vinnie or RangeMan?"

"Either. Both."

"Vinnie? Most of the time. RangeMan? Yes."

He nodded. "Can you see yourself doing this for a few more years?"

I considered the question. "I don't know yet. For either one."

Daddy smiled. "Don't let your job be a habit." I frowned. "Are you a bounty hunter because you've gotten used to it? Or because you enjoy it? Habit vs. enjoyment."

I smiled. "Both, but mostly enjoyment. I get the guy, I set my own schedule, and I don't have to wear pantyhose." Daddy refilled my glass. "I don't have to answer to anyone but me."

He nodded and we puffed away. As we were stubbing the cigars out, he looked at me and said, "You will always be Stephanie Plum. Bombshell Bounty Hunter. Managing Director of RangeMan. No one will ever be able to take those honors away from you. Your mother and sister? They will never understand. They went from being someone's daughter to being someone's wife and mother. You've always had a separate identity. Don't lose it or give it up because that's the easy thing to do, because someone tells you that's the next step."

With that, Daddy went inside and upstairs to bed and I sat in the living room and smiled. I would **always **be Stephanie Plum. I would never be Burg. I would always want to fly.

* * *

Val and I went walking along the boardwalk on Tuesday morning. We could see Grandma in the water with some new friends, laughing and having fun.

"What do you really do at RangeMan?" Val asked.

I gave her an overview and she frowned.

"So, the company is legitimate? It's legal?"

I looked at her. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm just wondering who's in charge of the illegal activities. You know, the murder-for-hire stuff. There have to be some. All those men look like thugs."

I reminded myself that Valerie was pregnant, so if I choked her I'd get two counts of murder.

"RangeMan is not murder-for-hire, Val. I see all the paperwork, all the bank accounts. Everything we do is legitimate. All of it is legal."

Val sniffed. "Not from what I hear. I mean, everyone knows that Ranger 'disappears' for stretches. Is he in jail or doing assassin stuff?"

I turned to my sister and waited for her to look at me. "You know **nothing** about RangeMan," I stated coldly. "Nothing at all and all your information comes from people who don't know anything either. I'm your sister, standing in front of you as the person running the company, telling you that everything we do is legal. Unless you're suggesting that I'm now involved in illegal activity? " I took a step closer to her and watched her turn pale. "As for Ranger, what he does is none of anyone's business, but I'd think that a man who runs a multi-million dollar company and provides jobs for so many men deserves a bit more respect. All the RangeMen do. **So shut your trap, Val**."

Val blanched. Her jaw clenched and she stared into the water. "No one knows what you do there. You've become almost as big a mystery as Ranger himself. No one sees you, no one hears from you, and when we do see you, you have a bodyguard. You've become Ranger. It's scary."

I thought about what Val said and smiled. That did sound like Ranger, on the surface anyway. "It's no one's business what I do at work. I work. I don't go to anyone else's job asking them what they do all day. It's none of my business."

"Still, people want to know—"

"None of their business, Val." I stared at her, jaw clenched. I had a horrible thought and decided to test it. "How much are you in the pot for?" Val blushed bright red and I shook my head. "Great. Even my own sister is betting on my life."

"I am not, but you're gonna lose Joe," Val said stubbornly. "You need to work it out with him. He's good for you. He tolerates your job and that you can't cook. Not many men will. Be realistic, Steph. You can't do this bounty hunter gig for the rest of your life. At some point, Steph, you need to grow up. Get married. Have kids. It's the best thing I ever did."

"It's the only thing you ever did." Val looked at me, insulted, but I remembered what Daddy said. "You went from being someone's daughter to being someone's wife, twice. Who are you? What have you ever accomplished in your life? Yeah, I get it. Being a wife and mom is hard work, but it's what **you** wanted to do. But that doesn't give you the right to decide that it's right for me. You did what you wanted to and I'm doing what I want to. Maybe someday, I'll be a wife and Mom. But I can look back and say I was also a bad-ass bounty hunter and I ran a major company. I did more with my life than have kids and cook meals."

She was quiet for a moment, then, "So are you going to choose Ranger?"

"Right now, I'm choosing me. I'm doing what I want to because I want to. Tell the bookie in charge of the bets it's even money odds again."

Val blushed, embarrassed. "And when he comes back and takes over his company again?"

"Perhaps I'll go back to being a bounty hunter. I'll do what **I** want, Val. I don't answer to anyone else."

Silence, then, "That's sad."

"No, what's sad is that my sister is betting on my life because she doesn't have a life of her own. That's sad. Call the bookie and give him the news so he can update the odds." I looked at Val, disgusted, and walked toward Grandma.

"What?" she called.

I turned back around and looked at her. "If you aren't in the pot, you're keeping it up to date. How much they pay you for that?" Val blushed and I had my answer. I turned and walked to Grandma.

"Stephanie! Stephanie, this is Murray and this is Jack. They're from Connecticut. They're here to visit the shore."

Whatever hair Murray had on his head had migrated south in search of . . . I don't know. Connie's wax girl would see Murray as a challenge. Ears, nose, chest, knuckles, everywhere except his head, but he was grinning at Grandma enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Jack was completely hairless and staring at my chest.

I hoped Grandma wasn't thinking of double dating. I was calling Hector before I'd let that happen. Jack looked like he had quick hands.

"Hey there, chickie!" Murray said. "Your grandma tells us you're a bounty hunter. Like Dog, huh?"

I'm also starting to understand the RangeMan annoyance with Duane 'Dog' Chapman. "Not quite. I'm more low-key."

Grandma laughed. "Uh huh. Those explosions are really low key." I laughed and Grandma grinned. She turned to Murray and Jack. "My baby granddaughter always gets her man. 100% success rate. She's the most successful bounty hunter on the East Coast."

The men looked impressed, but I was impressed Grandma knew that. "How did you know all that?"

"I pay attention. I keep up. Gives me something to brag about at the Clip N Curl. I mean, if I have to sit through one more boring description of Myrtle's great-grandchild's violin recital or Doris's granddaughter and her jet-setter career, I think I'd choke. Those women can't describe half of what their children and grandchildren do for a living but we **all** know what you do."

"So, do you carry a gun and chase dangerous men down too?" Jack asked, eyes still on my chest.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but I prefer carrying a stun gun to chase my dangerous men down. Guns mean I might get shot. I've been shot enough. For the really dangerous ones, I use my knees."

"Knees?" Murray asked, confused.

"Yeah," I replied, staring at Jack. "Hard to resist the handcuffs when I've relocated your bits near your throat."

Jack suddenly found my face much more interesting.

Murray laughed. "I believe you. I'll bet you bring the men in. I'm betting they follow you willingly." He nudged Grandma. "She's got your looks, cutie. Fills out a bikini like you, too."

Is Ram psychic? I vowed to run 35 minutes the next day. Hey, I don't want to sag but I don't want to collapse either.

Grandma blushed. "You tease. You don't fool me. Anyway, Stephie, we're headed to Dorcas's for some lunch. Wanna join us?"

"Sure." I figured it would keep me from wanting to kill Val for a while. My sister is keeping the bookie informed. I wasn't sure what the appropriate level of hurt is for that.

Lunch was good. Now that Jack had located my face, I found he was a decent conversationalist. Murray was a cardiologist and Jack was a plastic surgeon. Mom would be in seventh heaven if either was closer in age to me. I texted Hector, just in case. Jack's gaze had drifted back to my chest. I stared hard until he shrugged.

"Sorry. Occupational hazard. I spend so much time lifting and pumping that when I'm confronted by a set, I automatically look to see who did the work. You haven't had any done, have you?"

I shook my head and he smiled.

"Great. Thought I was losing my touch. I was about to ask you who managed to stitch you back up without leaving a trace. B-cup?" I nodded. "Nice. Natural. You don't look like you have a set of boulders on your chest."

I texted Hector that Jack was harmless. Plastic surgeon. Too late; I saw Hector winding his way through the restaurant and I laughed mentally. Hector had slid the 'psycho' face in place and the room was getting quiet.

"Hector!" Grandma was thrilled to see him. "Murray, Jack, this is my boy-toy, Hector. He doesn't speak any English." She winked and Hector shot me a look that promised a lecture. Hey, I didn't ask you to actually show up.

Murray was looking from Grandma to Hector, intrigued. "Well, can you tell your boy-toy I'd like to take you out for dinner tonight? I'm not trying to horn in on his territory." He winked at Grandma. "Yet."

She laughed. "I'll tell him later, but you haven't actually asked me. Perhaps you should ask me first then Hector and I can plan our day."

Hector was shooting me looks that screamed 'Get me out of here before I lose all street cred!' I stood. "Grandma, I hate to break up your little party, but I think I'll take my partner and go. I'll make sure I tell Hector how you were teasing him."

Grandma pouted and Murray grinned. "So he's your boyfriend?"

"Nope. Partner. Like cops."

Once we cleared the restaurant and made it back to the beach, Hector looked at me. "_Angelita_."

I laughed, then sobered up. Within minutes, I was sobbing on the beach, telling Hector about my discussion with Val. Hector held me and rubbed my back, crooning in Spanish.

"Your Papa was right. You will always be someone separate from the men in your life. You have defined yourself. Your sister is jealous. She'll never have what you have and she'll never have the guts to go after what you have. Ignore her. You want RangeMan to put the word out that the pot needs to be abolished?"

I sat back and considered it. "No. I want the RangeMen to join the pot. Every RangeMan from across the country. Whoever wants in. Bankrupt it. Make it meaningless."

Hector grinned. "There's my _Angelita_! I'll send the orders out today. An influx of around 200 men joining the pot **will** make it meaningless. How do you want us to tip it? A vote for Ranger? Or a vote for neither?"

"Neither. The RangeMen vote for Stephanie Plum. It's my life. It's no one else's business."

* * *

I was sitting on the beach when Grandma joined me.

"Told your sister where to stuff it, huh?"

I looked over. Grandma was grinning. I huffed and looked back at the sea.

"So she's telling Mom what a horrible person I am for not marrying Joe? For running a company that kills people?" I clench my jaw to keep from crying.

Grandma sat down next to me. "If by that you mean, is she back at the house crying that you're being mean to her and saying she's done nothing with her life and working at RangeMan has turned you into this mean, cruel person, then yeah. Personally, I'm proud. It's about time you told your sister to stop trying to force you to live her life. Having to listen to her talk about the joys of natural childbirth all week made me want to vomit." Grandma snorts and I smile. "In my day, it was called labor and you didn't get drugs because it was _supposed_ to hurt."

I laugh. Another reason I don't want kids. I'm not big on pain. "I shouldn't have to justify my job or my life. To anyone."

"Of course not. But Valerie is jealous of you. Always has been. Always will be."

"Why?" I asked, turning to grandma. "She's Mom's favorite. She was the one who always did everything right. Married right out of high school, had two kids, kept a perfect house. Even when she got divorced, she got remarried, is having the second kid, and still keeps a perfect house. Why is she jealous of me?" I was clenching my jaw to keep from crying. My own sister is selling information on me.

"Because life has smacked her in the face time and time again because she doesn't have the strength to make her own decisions," Grandma replied simply. "You've always done exactly what you wanted to, regardless of what people told you. Sometimes your choices were stupid, sometimes they were smart, but they were _your_ choices. Your sister has always done exactly what she was told to do, because she was told it would make her happy. What does she have to show for it?"

"A husband, a lawyer this time. Three girls and one more child. A house in Trenton close to our parents."

Grandma snorted. "She has four children and another on the way. Albert will never be a successful lawyer. He should switch to elder care and drafting wills. He's too weak for litigation. She doesn't have a degree because she got a Mrs instead. She will always be dependent on your parents for help. She will always lean on Helen's advice for what she should do because she's never learned to think on her own." Grandma leaned back and smiled.

"Dickie was an ass, but he was clearly gonna be successful before you ruined him. Ranger and Joe? Like choosing between cake and ice cream. You don't have any kids so you get to make your own choices, decide what you want. And you're not dependent on Frank and Helen. You have other people you can lean on. Your sister only has her married friends and they gossip just as viciously as she and Helen do."

Grandma sat up and crossed her legs, Indian style. "You'd think she'd have enough sense to reach out to you and lean on her little sister, but no, her pride is in the way. She's married to Albert, but only because you set them up. Even now, every so often Albert looks at you in a way that's completely smitten and Valerie doesn't miss those looks. She's married to Albert but he has a crush on you."

Ew. I turned back to the sea and stared out to the ocean. The seagulls were diving for dinner.

"I spent 50 years with a man who demanded my obedience." I looked Grandma. She was serious. "I cooked his meals, I had his daughter, I kept his house and I kept my mouth shut. I did my grieving during the marriage. That's why I don't want another one. I want what you were smart enough to take, freedom."

"Why did you stay?"

"Where else could I go? I was a good Catholic woman with a child. You didn't work back then, unless you were a secretary, and it would've shamed Harry to be known as a man not making enough to ensure his wife could stay at home. I was bored out of my skull once your mother went to school. I didn't have any skills or talents."

I smiled. She's wrong there.

"What do you want from him?" Grandma asked softly.

"Love. Support. Encouragement. Trust," I replied. Those things I know.

"Do you get that?"

"Yes."

"What does he mean to you?"

"Everything."

"Then act like it." I turned, startled, to Grandma, who was frowning. "Would you be happy if he died young in some god-forsaken country before his time?"

"No." It's my biggest fear with Ranger.

"Then what makes you think he'll be happy to learn you died right here in New Jersey of something preventable?"

My eyes widened at Grandma. Pillowcase?

"It's not the same, Grandma."

"Why not?"

I'm quiet. Why not, indeed.

Grandma stood up and kissed the top of my head. "If you don't pull your head out of your ass, Stephie, you'll watch from heaven as that man spends his life with some other woman. Or a bunch of them. He looks like the kind of man who'd need to rotate 'em in to avoid wearing 'em out." I grinned. True. "Anyway, regardless of what he might say, there will be another woman. His bed won't be cold and lonely for long, and some other woman will be smart enough to do what you thought stupid. She'll make herself a priority. Don't be like the rest of the women in this family, sacrificing yourself for someone else. Put yourself first. Make your life and your needs a priority. If he truly loves you, he'll respect you more for it."

* * *

After six days with my family, I couldn't wait for them to leave. After they pulled out the driveway Friday morning, I flopped back on the couch and grinned.

The doorbell rang. It was Nancy, here to clean the house. She took one look and said, "I'll need to call in reinforcements."

I cringed. "Before you do, they'll have to have a background check." She stared at me, disbelieving. I shrugged. "I'm the head of a security company. My men will want to investigate. Otherwise, you'll have half a dozen fully armed ex-Special Forces vets standing around glaring at your employees."

She stared at me, then sighed and wrote out a list.

"Hal?"

"Hi, Sis. Need something?"

"My family left Nancy a mess. She wants to call in reinforcements. I have the names."

"And birthdays?"

"No birthdays."

"I need birthdays."

I asked Nancy for the birthdays, which she wrote, then turned her attention back to the bathrooms. "Got 'em." I gave Hal the birthdays and he said he'd call when they cleared. An hour later, he called back. All cleared, but Hector was coming to oversee.

I told Nancy she could call her employees but my partner was coming to oversee. She nodded and twenty minutes later, Hector was intimidating the four extra people Nancy called in to help. Nancy saw my point.

"He one of your military men?"

"Nah, but he's all that's needed for protection. I'm sure they're lurking around here somewhere."

Hector turned and smiled. I sighed. _"¿Cuántos?"_ (How many?) He shook his head and pointed at the cameras. All the lights were blinking. I turned back to Nancy.

"I would guess at this moment that we're being watched by at least 15 men." I turned to the new app on my iPhone, a translation app that would allow me to speak a sentence and have it instantly translated into Spanish. Hector grinned when he found it. Perfect to keep up the ruse. "_Any chance they might stop eavesdropping?_"

Hector waited for the translation before replying with his phone. "Nope. They're nervous. After this, you're alone here."

"_Hal agreed that there would be no eavesdropping, no live monitoring."_

"I didn't_."_

"_Hector!"_

Hector shrugged. "You're not offline. You got a better solution?_"_

"_I could quit."_

"We'll post guards outside your apartment."

I glared at Hector. _"Did nothing I say mean anything? I need to feel as if I'm in charge of my safety. The constant monitoring doesn't help."_

Hector looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I know that look. He'd prefer to shelve the conversation until later, but I'm pissed now.

"_This isn't what I wanted my time at the beach to be, Hector. I needed time away from the constant monitoring, the pressure, the lack of freedom and control."_

Hector motioned for me to follow him outside. Once there, out of range of the cameras, he put his phone away and I was confronted by the coldest look I've ever seen on his face. Definite pillowcase coming my way.

"_Angelita_, right now, this is a delicate compromise between you, me, and all of RangeMan Trenton. You are the CO. Your safety is our priority. But more than that, you are my partner. My back. The person I trust most in a pinch. I love you and I worry. Things happen to you and I'm nervous because you expect me to skip back to Trenton and leave you all alone here. Not posting a guard at this house? Major trust on my part. Not moving in this next week? Major major trust on my part. Not instituting live monitoring? Major trust from both me and Hal."

Hector blew a breath. I was pouting, waiting to attack.

"It's not an indication of our faith, or lack of, in you. It's an acknowledgement than in four years, you have racked up an enemies list second only to Ranger himself. Dead bodies, stalkers, kidnappers, psychos, they all seem to gravitate to you. We **trust** you. The rest of humanity is suspect. Plus, with Ranger undercover on this op, leaving you here by yourself is a true exercise in faith. You could be kidnapped away from this house and we wouldn't know. So, instead of grumbling to me about being unhappy with the love we have for you, come up with a solution that works for everyone. Give me an option you can live with, remembering that, technically, you are not offline."

Pillowcase. I pout, but Hector is unmoved.

"You'll be here, on your own, for an entire week."

"How many trackers are on me right now?"

"On your body? Five. One more in your phone."

"OK, my compromise. I'll keep the trackers. I'll carry the phone wherever I go. I'm in trouble when the phone and the trackers aren't in the same place. The phone has a panic button in it and I can call if something happens."

Hector mouth set in a firm line but eventually he nodded. "Agreed. Phone and trackers must stay together. Otherwise, I'll worry you've been kidnapped. If you're in the house and the phone is in the house, I'll accept that. Outside the house, the two of you need to be together."

I smile. I don't like it, but it's a small price to pay to have the house all to myself.

* * *

Everyone's gone and I'm on the beach. The seagulls are fishing for dinner and I'm fishing for answers.

My sister is selling information about me. Why?

My parents are proud of my skills and accomplishments. Why now?

My grandmother? No change there.

The sky is pink and purple when I feel it. The tingle on the back of my neck.

Bastard.


	54. We Talk, Part I

**FYI The 'Bastard.' of the last chapter was Hector, not Ranger! Sorry for the confusion!**

* * *

**Chapter 54 We Talk?**

**Ranger's POV**

_Romance her. _Hector is an insistent ass. I'm watching Steph now and I wish I could just walk over and kiss her. She looks so cute in her polka-dot bikini. She needs to reapply the sunblock or she's gonna burn soon.

I watch her rub the back of her neck and look around. I grin. Two minutes and she knows I'm here, but she doesn't look for me. She turns around and heads back to her house. As she heads back, I see her looking around warily. OK, maybe she is looking for me. I watch, cautiously, prepared to duck behind a tree if necessary. Instead, my phone rings.

"_You are the world's worst stalker."_

"_Fuck you."_

"_You're not my type. She knows you're there."_

Sigh. "_She just had a breakdown. I don't want to chance it."_

"_She had a breakdown because we were smothering her and you're an ass. Quit making her feel like your woman one minute and your plaything the next."_

"_Close to the line, Hector."_ Hector is one of the few men in my life that I allow to speak as they wish but there are limits. I will break his ass for comments like that.

"_The line keeps moving. I thought you said you weren't going to pop up anymore."_

"_I miss her and I was worried."_ I know you said she's OK but still. She's my woman. I need to know she's OK.

"_Then show her! Treat her like the woman you love. Romance her, for Christ's sake, Ranger! Quit thinking the battle is over just because she decided to stop engaging the enemy."_

I'm quiet. I let Hector get away with more than most because there's no stopping him. He'll say whatever the hell he wants and take the time on the mats, just like Les. I've learned to just listen to both of them. Fuckers are usually right.

I can't **wait** to watch them fall in love. I snort. Bobby, too. Tank and I have gotten drunk a few times, **not** talking about the women in our lives. Amazing that the single men think they can solve this problem so easily.

"_You keep forgetting I'm not supposed to be in the country, bro."_

Silence, then Hector's voice comes over icy cold. _"Then prepare to lose her. She's made changes for you. What are you doing for her, to show her that you appreciate her efforts? She's eating your healthy crap and running your company, cleaning up problems that you and your partners didn't even realize existed. She's putting forth the effort to stand by your side._" Hector is silent, then, "_I always thought you were creative, Ranger. You mean you can't come up with ways to woo your woman from undercover? After all, if you get sent overseas, she'll have no contact with you. That I could understand. You're here. Woo her."_

"_We had an agreement. No discussing our relationship until this op is over. My death is still a high possibility. Besides, it's easy to say she's made the changes, but does she really understand what it will mean to be with me? To wake up and I'm gone? To live with trackers and guns all the time?"_ I snort. _"I can't wait to tell her that __**I'm**__ chipped and that's how your little tracking program keeps up with me. You think she'll be OK being chipped? She ditches trackers now. The stuff she's doing now, that's for her, to keep her alive. That's not for me."_

Hector is silent. _"Wrong,"_ he says coldly. _"When she had that breakdown, she could have decided the shit she's doing now wasn't worth it. She could have come back from your home and decided she'd had enough. After all, The Cop would be thrilled if she showed up at his mother's asking for a trip to Italy."_ I cringe. _"But she stayed. She's still trying for you. Because she loves you. So again, what are you doing for her?"_

I'm silent. You still don't get it, Hector. That's why I wanted Ella to help Steph, not you. Sometimes, _hermano_, I really wish you **had** served with us. Then you'd understand.

"_Have you at least told her you love her?"_

"_Yes."_

"_In English, Ranger?"_

"_I told her I did when she asked me."_

Silence. I snort mentally. Yeah, didn't know that did you? She knows. I've said it in English, Spanish, Arabic, French, and Farsi. She might not understand in the last three languages, but _te amo_ isn't that damn difficult a phrase. Hell, it's the same phrase in Italian and Spanish. _Ti amo_. _Te amo_. _Je t'aime_ isn't that difficult either but I'll let it slide.

"_Have you thought about anything else you can do to show you appreciate her?"_

You mean besides handing over my company, putting my entire life and wealth at her disposal, putting my men at her disposal, and letting her have damn near all of me? Does she love **herself**, Hector? Does she finally give a damn about **her** life? I'm tired of being the only one of the two of us who does.

"_Fine. Then I'm looking out for her, just as you'd want me to. I'm going to start introducing her to some new men, some men worthy of her."_

Hec's just earned two hours on the mats for that. The Cop's enough. I'm not fighting against new fuckers.

"_Who's supposed to be here this week?"_

"_No one. She's there alone."_

"_How'd she talk you into it?"_

"_She keeps the trackers at all times."_

I snort mentally. "_You accepted that?"_

"_I trust my partner so I have to. You want me to disable the cameras?"_

I consider it. _"Where are you?"_

"_I was about to leave your house. I need to drop her off?"_

"_Yeah. Ask her if she wants to join me at my house. If someone's watching her rental, I don't want to be spotted. MS-13 has intel that I might be stateside."_

"_Shit!"_

"_Exactly."_ And you say I don't care. I'm being hunted but I still popped up to check on her. Shit, if I were gonna be caught, now would be the time. My fucking heart will be my demise._ "When do I need to leave?"_

"_Thursday afternoon. Les is coming in early to set up for the strategists."_

"_Done." Click._

My phone rings five minutes later.

"Yo."

"_Angelita_? He's there."

"Thanks, Hector." The phone clicks. "Are you OK?" She sounds worried. I test that feeling. I like it. She's concerned about me.

"I'm fine, Babe. Love the bikini."

I hear a quiet laugh. "Thanks. Were you on the boardwalk?"

"I'm nearby."

"How long are you staying this time?"

"Until Thursday, if you want some company"

"Chasing a lead?" She sounds amused. No Babe. I came here for you.

"Nope. Thought I'd take in some sun." It's quiet. "We need to talk."

"About what? Company matters?"

"No." My phone beeps. Trenton's been updated that the CO is 'perfectly protected'. Hal understood. The men won't ask questions. Good; she's coming.

"Then what are we talking about?"

"Us."

"There is no us."

"It's been 'me' and 'you', so it's time to talk about it."

"Why now?"

"Past time. Hector told me he'd start introducing you to men who'd appreciate you. I'm not afraid of him but he's a sneaky little shit."

"So you're here to piss a circle around me?"

Wow. She sounds annoyed. I look at my phone coolly for a moment. Clearly, I suck at humor. Time to take lessons from Les. "No. I'm here to remind my woman that she is mine."

"Am I?"

"You change your mind?"

"What are the conditions?"

"We better talk about that."

Silence, then, "My partner loves me and I love him."

I know Hec's gay, but damn if I don't feel as if she just socked me in my balls with that sentence. Maybe those two as partners was a bad idea. Both have problems with the concept of self-preservation. "Good. Do I have company this week or not?"

_Sigh_. "Yeah." _Click_.

I stare at my phone. Who was that? Whoever she was, she has RangeMan phone manners. I travel halfway out of town, conduct a few evasion maneuvers and a cleaning sweep before heading back to my house. I pull into the garage and Steph is standing there, arms crossed, waiting on me. I climb out the car and walk over to her.

"I've missed you."

She looks me up and down and smiles wanly. "I missed you, too."

"Looking good, Babe. Getting brown." I'd hug her, but her arms are crossed and she's just looking at me. Hmm …Hector truly is a sneaky little shit. Is she working on a blank face too? I can still read her, but the thought is interesting. A Steph I can't read? Actually, the thought is terrifying.

"Thanks. You look pale."

I shrug. "I work at night." I take her hand and unlock the door, allowing her to precede me inside.

"Is this like Miami? No shopping? Nothing out in public?"

"Yes. Sorry, but I got the feeling I was being followed last week. Had to shake them off before I came here." I head back to the garage and grab her bags and mine. I take them upstairs to the master bedroom. Steph's already there, unpacking her laptop.

"Are you still being followed?" I shrug. Steph looks over, irritated. "Words, Ranger. I need words."

My jaw clenches as I look at her. Wow . . . but honestly, that made me a bit hot. "I don't think so, but anyone with two brain cells to rub together would also have you under watch." She pales and I nod. "I told you that you were my best known weakness, Babe. If they want to find me, they'll follow you. If I'm stateside, I'll pop up to see you at some point. After all, this is the third time in five months."

Before Babe can say anything else, I kiss her, a sweet passionate kiss. When I come up for air, she has my shirt open and she's rubbing her hands all over my chest and back. No bullet wounds, Babe. I'm fine. I rest my forehead against hers.

"I really do miss you, Babe."

I feel her smile. "I miss you too, Batman."

I chuckle. Now, to romance my woman while undercover.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

Again, he pops up out of no-fucking-where! This is insane. I'm not done with Ella's list and I realize that I don't want to talk about anything on her list until the end of the year. I want time to determine what I want in this insane relationship. Ella and Grandma are right. I have apologies to make to Ranger, but I need to figure out what I need first.

I had the house packed up and locked in minutes. I called ML and told her where I hid the keys and she's thrilled and grateful. She and Lenny were looking for a place at the beach for a week and my moving to Ranger's made my rental available for her. She wanted to know where I was staying and I told her I was moving to a secure location for a week. She didn't ask any questions beyond that.

I head back downstairs and Ranger follows me. "Is there food here?"

"Hector restocked for me."

"You expected me to stay?" For some reason, that ticks me off.

"I hoped you'd stay. I prepared for the possibility you would agree."

OK, now my anger feels a little silly. RangeMan SOPs: Prepare for all possibilities. I start a salad and add some of the leftover shrimp I brought with me to it. Meal in minutes but it's a salad; I don't really count this as a meal. Hector's right; this really doesn't take a lot of effort, but I don't count this as cooking.

"It's food." I look up. Ranger looks as if he's considering a smile. "Cooking doesn't always require a stove."

Another reason not to have this talk now: my blank face isn't ready yet.

We eat on the deck, enjoying the sunset before Ranger speaks. "I heard you had a tough time two weeks ago."

I look over. "What did Hector tell you?" My partner is going to be without **his** balls soon. I'm sure Ranger popped up because of Hector. He didn't want to leave me alone at the beach and, two hours later, Ranger appears. I was thrilled Ranger was here and **pissed** (and grateful) that Hector arranged it. I should have known that there was no way he would leave me alone. Ranger collects the empty plates and takes them to the kitchen. He returns and pulls me into his arms.

"That you needed something he wasn't providing and he didn't know what it was. I needed to get here and figure it out," he says softly.

Again, that sounds like Hector. I knew it. I just **knew** it. Hector arranged this.

"Did Hector tell you to come this week?"

He looks blank. "No. Was he supposed to?"

OK, is that the truth or a lie? I think about it and decide it's the truth. Ranger's never lied to me and Hector's never lied to me. It might just be a massive coincidence, so I shake my head. I don't say anything for a while. I listen to the birds and the ocean. The fact that Ranger thinks he might have been followed makes me nervous, so I stand and walk back into the house. Ranger follows, clearly confused, but I head up the stairs and into the master bedroom. I kick my shoes off and lie on the bed, using the remote to turn the fan on. Ranger joins me on the bed.

I look at Ranger. "And you guessed what?"

I feel Ranger exhale. "In the military, the hardest deployment for the military spouse is the first one," he says softly. "You don't know what's going on, you're worried, you're upset, you're constantly thinking about your loved one in harm's way. If you're a good commander, you watch for that in your men. You watch for the ones with their minds back home more than on the mission. When Hector called, I knew it was coming. I told him that Ella was prepared for it. I wasn't surprised."

"You aren't deployed."

"Same thing, Babe. I'm gone, for at least a year, with no communication except during the rare moment I pop up. It leaves you feeling off-balance, right?"

I nod.

"Before, it wasn't a big deal. You were independent of RangeMan and you could come and go as you pleased. I'm sure you thought about me, but then, Morelli was around. You did your normal on-off thing with him. This time, you aren't calling the shots on your schedule, my men are protective, and neither of us is here."

"That makes me sound. . . " I choose not to finish that sentence.

Ranger pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. "Sorry, Babe, but it's the truth, right?" I nod, reluctantly. "You cared about me but you wouldn't allow yourself more than that. Now you have and the worry is greater."

Ranger leaves and returns with a piece of paper. 'Military Wives' 21 Best Tips for Dealing with a Spouse's Deployment'. I read the list. It's everything Tank and Bobby told me to do before they left and everything the RangeMen have been trying to do since Ranger left. I thought the guys were just being overprotective but no, they were trying to help me do the things that military spouses are supposed to do to keep busy and not consider the danger their loved one is in.

I'll bet they had no clue.

"I doubt it, but they recognized it subconsciously. Only problem: you're a woman. If you were a man, they would've known exactly what to do. They were probably a little more uncertain about what was appropriate for you and if they were even calling it right."

I smile. My sweet, lethal, incredibly overprotective big brothers. I'm getting Hal something special. He did the best job with his days out. "You're right. Hal always seemed to know when I'd reached a tipping point. He would get me out the building and away from the men for a day."

Ranger closes his eyes and strokes my hair away from my face. "Hal has a good instinct for people. He's detail oriented, yes, but I kept him after the Slayers incident because a) he'd never fall for that trick again and b) the men respected him, even while teasing him."

I smile. Hal is known for his people management skills in the company. Tank is flattered, since it's known in Trenton that Hal 'channels' Tank when he's uncertain about what to do.

I put the paper down and look at Ranger. "So now what?"

He faces me and we look at each other for a while. "I know I said we'd talk about this when the op is over. Do you still want to wait or do you want to talk now? I'm ready whenever you are, Babe."

**THANK GOD**! An out. "Later. I want to see if I can get through this year."

Ranger nods and stands up. I can hear him shutting down the downstairs. I take a shower and prep for bed and Ranger joins me soon after.

"Babe?"

I roll over and look at him.

"I meant what I said. You're mine. That much you can be certain of. Everything else we'll figure out."

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

Something about this conversation isn't right. Five and a half months ago, she was ready, desperate to have this talk. I've just offered it on a silver platter and she decided not to take it. Why not? I consider possibilities. Denial Land is always a good one, but what's she denying? Hell, I've stated, in no uncertain terms, that she's mine, I consider her mine. She hasn't denied the claim and she's not looking nervous.

Has her time as CO given her a different perspective? I consider this one. Possible. My life is a pain in the ass and now she sees how Bruce Wayne lives. Bruce is a psychotic fucker because heading Wayne Enterprises is a headache. Being Batman is a relief. The choices are clear. People think Batman's the insane one but no, his life and objectives are clear. Avenge his parents. Protect the city. Ensure peace whenever he can.

Ranger? Ranger's life is great. Simple. Orders are clear, money is paid, job is done. 'Tis but a flesh wound' is Ranger's motto. Carlos? Carlos hates the office. He hates paperwork. He hates meetings. Carlos doesn't want to be chained to a desk until at least 45 or after the loss of three limbs, whichever comes first. Which is a pain because it's Ranger's name on the buildings. It's his name on the business.

Carlos has a hard and dangerous life that's confusing because he can't determine if he's more Ranger or Carlos. That makes it hard to determine if he wants Stephanie to be permanent. No, he wants Stephanie. He just doesn't want to win her then lose her because she didn't understand what she was getting. Better to have loved and lost? Bullshit. Loving and losing hurts.

That's my greatest fear: That I'll let my Babe into my world and she'll run screaming. It happens. The divorce rate among Rangers is insane, somewhere around 70%. I've seen it, watched happily married men come back from a yearlong mission and I run into them two weeks later and they're living in hotels because their wives have had enough. They kicked them out. They wanted husbands who were there, who could talk about their lives, their work, could communicate when they were out in the field. "Don't tell me you can't send emails! X's husband can send emails!" Yeah, that's because X's husband is riding a fucking desk at the end of the day, sleeping in a cot, close to headquarters.

Rangers are out in the field, living out of rucks, eating MREs and fighting blisters. We're trying not to breathe too hard when the enemy is directly overhead. We're sleeping in mud. We come home and jump at the slightest noise. Even the retired ones know the deal. I've seen men retire out of the service and re-up two years later. Why? Because they can't integrate back into their families. Their wives learned to lead lives without them and once they're home, they aren't needed. Their kids don't need them. Their wives don't need them. Everyone learned how to get along without them. So, hell, they go back overseas. They continue the life.

That's part of the reason the guys and I got out. We wanted to have options. We didn't want the service to be our only option.

I slide out of bed. I can see Steph roll over in bed and look at me. "Library."

"OK."

I slip down to my library and pour myself a brandy. I put the Mozart on and kick back in my favorite chair. This is clearly going to be one of those 'deep thinking' nights.

She thinks she knows what it will be like, but she doesn't. Hector thinks she knows what she's getting, but he's wrong. No Army wife does. That "You knew what you were signing up for when you married him" stuff is bullshit. No Army wife understands what she's walking into; that's why they're so tight. Army wives stick together because they know that **no one** understands what they're living through. That's why I want to break Hector right now. He **doesn't** know what it's like. This mission, this year, is a cheat. She's not really getting a taste of what life with me will be like because I keep popping up. Let me go on a mission for a year with no contact. That's the true test.

Steph believes she can handle it. I reiterated all the reasons she shouldn't bet on me, all the reasons I wasn't the right man, and she said it was already the life she was living. I knew it wasn't true, but . . . shit, I guess I was willing to believe it right then. I was willing to chance it. I knew this would happen. I knew she'd break. Every wife and girlfriend does but I knew Steph's break would be harder because she wouldn't reach out to anyone. She wouldn't lean on her friends. She wouldn't lean on the family she can count on, her father and grandmother.

I knew she'd try to hide it and that's why I know Hector doesn't understand this. That's why I prepped Ella before I left. I told Ella to get her to the beach house and away from the men. Put her back together again and let her calm down before returning her home. Hector and the men would have tried to head it off, but that's the wrong method of handling it. It's like releasing the pressure valve on a pipe. It has to be done carefully and considering all the consequences.

Steph? No one understands me there. I have a woman who I accepted had another man besides me. I'm the one giving her everything she needs and she was fucking him. Not me. Him. And she wasn't making any attempts to give him up. I may have encouraged her to repair her relationship with Morelli, but she didn't have to do it. She could have fought me on it. She fights me on everything else but she didn't on that. I was prepared to make changes for her then, but it was a test. I needed to see if she was strong enough to fight for whatever relationship we might have.

She failed and I'm glad she did. She wasn't ready. I didn't make her climb back into bed with him. She gave up and went back to him and I accepted her decision. She might say she doesn't want casual sex, but that's all she had with Morelli. So she was willing to give him what she wouldn't give me, but I'm the one being honest with her. He's the one hiding her ex-husband in his fucking house and lying to her. I don't lie to her. She might not like the shit I say but I **don't** lie.

Poaching? My silent way of sticking it to Morelli.

I refill the brandy. Even thinking about it pisses me off. I was ready then. I really was but I needed her to fight for me as hard as I was ready to fight for her. I 'blackmailed' her into sleeping with me so she wouldn't have the guilt. I made it a magical night, pulled out every trick I knew, and made love to her so sweetly I realized I'd given my heart to her long ago without knowing it. Instead she looked at me, clenched her jaw, and walked to her shower. I knew she was pissed at my comment, but would she _fight_? Would she attempt to change my mind?

Nope. She climbed back into his bed two nights later. I left and went to Miami, bitter. I accepted the first assignment that came my way because I knew it would be months before I was ready to see Morelli without wanting to strangle him. Even now, she's only here because he dumped her. She's here because Morelli told her that he was unwilling to put up with this craziness anymore. That they could get back together when she was ready to propose to him.

So I'm her fucking rebound and she thinks that's enough? Hector thinks that's enough? NO! Shit, I want the same thing Morelli wants. I want her to choose me. I want her to have the strength to really end it with him and walk away. From the moment I met her, he's been there, a silent presence. No, that's wrong. **I've** been the silent presence, watching the two of them make up and break up and wondering if she'd ever walk away from him.

Steph's finally showing me that she's ready to stand by my side, and I'm thrilled but terrified at the same time. Thrilled because I've been waiting for so long, wondering if I'd ever get to slide my ring on her finger. Terrified because I fully expected this breakdown and it happened, as I expected. This isn't the last time this will happen, I'm sure, but will the second time be the one that breaks her? The third? Will she make the entire year? Or will I come home and have to congratulate Morelli? Again?

Babe has **never** shown that she's good for the long haul in anything that she's done, except bounty hunting, and she does that in a way that scares the hell out of me. She did **that** in a way that had convinced me that she didn't care if she lived or died. I recognize that it was easier for me to keep her on the fringes of my life because I'd go insane if something happened to her or if she left me after I let my guard down and let her in fully. But that didn't help her. It only confused her. It didn't give her the reassurance she needed to take a chance on me. I didn't make it comfortable for her to love me, just confusing.

I recognize I'll have to make changes and I know I'm going to have to make some apologies. I've always assumed that any relationship with Steph would require those two things to happen, and I don't need Hector banging me over the head with that every time we talk. I know I can't get everything my way in a relationship. But I need to know that she loves herself. I need her to take herself seriously. I've told her I love her. I've told her in English and Spanish. I've told her in words and in deeds from the moment I met her.

I can't remember the last time she told me she loves me. Has she ever told me she loves me? Even at the heights of passion she's never said it.

No man remains this devoted to any woman for this long without being in love. It's not the sex; I'm not getting that. My words? I recognize that they were shitty. I know I have a lot of ground to cover there. I have a lot to make up for. Some of the shit I've said makes _me_ cringe. I set myself up to have this insane situation then got frustrated with Babe for not giving me a chance when I'd encouraged her to believe my words. I have a lot to apologize for and I know it.

But she scares me because, as a commander, I recognized that Steph not only did not love herself but she depended on outside validation to sustain her. Me, her mother, her grandmother, the 'Burg, everywhere she looked everyone was feeding her their opinions and she hadn't learned how to let that roll off her back and depend on her own sense of self-worth. She has a low sense of self-worth, no sense of her own value, and you can't be equals in a marriage or relationship when one person constantly looks to the other for validation and support of their self.

I switch to Chopin. I need something soothing. I sit back and let the music wash over me while thinking about the insanity of my love life.

I love her with everything I have, but I need her to love herself. I didn't want to encourage her to rely on me, but she does. I didn't want her to get the training she's getting now for me. That would be the wrong reason. I wanted her to get it for her, because she was tired of being injured, because she was tired of being hurt. I'm not forcing her to do anything she doesn't want to do; that would make me no better than Morelli.

I made her run; she whined the entire way. I put bullets in her gun; she left it at home. I put her in a safe house so I could assess the situation on the ground; she stunned Hal, got kidnapped, was beaten and nearly raped. All for what? A fucking wedding shower. A wedding shower was more important than her own life! So I stopped. This Henry Higgins realized that Eliza wasn't ready to work in the flower shop. This is the problem that I have with Steph. She doesn't love herself, but she wants me to love her. I do love her, but she has to love herself first.

I believe in Steph and I love her, but my love and belief can't be what sustains her. I can't give her a sense of self-worth. That's why it's called **self**-worth. I can only supplement her, encourage her and celebrate her successes, which I've done since I met her, but it still wasn't enough. That's something she has to find on her own. That's something she has to develop on her own. It's not a car or a gun. It's not a physical need I can meet with money. It's an emotional need that I can't meet. Self-worth is self-love and most people are afraid to love themselves. I love myself. I need Steph to love herself.

I want a partner, an equal, and Steph wasn't that person but I can see that's changing already. This Steph pulled no punches earlier. This Steph is getting stronger and she's growing and I'm already in love, all over again, with what I see. I see my partner. I see the woman I always knew was there coming out.

That's all I wanted her to change. I wanted her to learn to love herself, to **know** that she has value regardless of what everyone else thinks, and it looks like that's happening.

This is why I didn't want to have this discussion until this op is over. Because, even though this op is a cheat, this is the closest she'll get to test driving my life. She's running my company, in the care of my men, with trackers and a loaded gun. She hasn't run from any arguments lately (damn near started one earlier) and Hector says she's taking the training seriously. She's getting a chance to see what my life is really like and Hector says it's been eye-opening for her.

I hoped it would be. She's experiencing the loneliness and frustration that Ranger wives feel, and she sees what it's **really** going to be like to be in a relationship with me. Gone all the time. No communication. Terse messages when I do communicate. Hell, some wives only know their husbands are still alive when they get the return receipt from the email! I needed her to see what I juggle on the civilian end and it's been enough (lately) to give me some hope that maybe this will work. I need to know she takes her life seriously.

I love every wonderful, insane, maddening thing about her. I was still hanging on, waiting for her to decide she's ready and now, finally, she thinks she's ready. OK. She finally told me, out loud, that I have her heart, so I'll honor and protect her gift. I'll give it a go, but I'm grateful Les tricked her into this part. This was something else that had to change but, again, I wasn't interested in forcing her to change. I didn't want to bully her into giving a damn about her life. I didn't want to force her to exercise or eat healthier or carry the damn gun and, thanks to Les, I don't have to. She's being forced to do it. I'm the motivation but not the reason. Good. You can't force someone to love themselves and that's what I needed in order to feel comfortable opening up to her. I needed to know I wouldn't come home to a headstone or her beautiful blue eyes closed because of a coma.

Show me **that** first. Prove that you finally care enough to take yourself seriously. It's the first hint I've had that she is starting to love herself. If she'd decided to leave, to tell Angie Morelli that she was ready for a trip to Italy, I would have treated that as final. Decision made. No returns. I would have booted her from my life then because it would have proven that, in the end, she didn't love herself enough to keep herself alive. She took the easy way out and my life's not easy. I can't love you more than you love yourself and that's what I've been doing for years, loving her more than she loved herself.

The guys think she's the only one being affected by this psyop, but she's not. I am too. I will never tell them, but they're forcing me to love me more than her. I have to take care of me first. I have to stop allowing her to bleed me dry. Not just financially, but emotionally. Watching her throw her life away is an emotional rollercoaster for me.

I'm allowing her to take the lead. I've already given her my promise, that if she wants to talk about this, I'm ready whenever she is. I was going to wait, going to make her last the entire year, but I realize that Hector is right. I need to give her the reassurance that I appreciate the changes she's making and I'm open to a relationship with her. She thinks she's ready so I'm finally taking a stand and saying, 'If you intend to pick me, welcome to my life. This is who I am and this is what you get. Show me you're ready for it and I'll show you I'm ready to bring you in fully. When you're ready, we can discuss how our relationship will work, how each of us will make the changes necessary to make it forever. If you can't handle it, then it's over. We'll just be friends and no more."

I'm ready but if it's too much for her, I'll end it.

I'll stop poaching. I'll stop giving her any hope. I'll keep our relationship professional because doing anything else would be unfair. If she couldn't make it through this year, then I know that we'd never make it unless I gave up missions all together and I have no plans to do that any time soon.

I don't do these missions for fun. I do it (a) because it pays and pays well; (b) I have the skill set necessary to complete the objectives successfully; and (c) I believe in the missions I accept. I understand that there are things that only I can do, missions that are perfect for me that will protect my country and promote its interests. Why do I do it as a mercenary instead of active duty? Because Army pay is shit and I prefer to issue my own orders. Tell me what the objective is and let me accomplish it. That's why the government pays me the big bucks. Because I don't fail. I don't need some desk-riding general trying to take credit for my success. I don't need a high-level DEA/ATF/FBI/CIA alphabet flunky trying to turn my success into his next promotion. Fuck you. Pay me my money and stay the hell out of my way.

Why did I accept this assignment? Because the job of a federal agent working with a gangs task force is to clear the streets of gang bangers. It's not to sell out the state agents. Why did I turn down the assignment to capture the MS-13 leadership? Because my job is to reestablish equilibrium, not to do the gangs task force's job. Second reason? I'm still considered a Latin King. I'm not interested in starting an all-out gang war.

I snort. ALKN vs. MS-13? I love my former brothers, but MS-13 would wipe the ground with ALKN unless they could rally their allies and a gang-war is bad for business.

I come home from missions and go straight to Miami. I have to switch back to 'civilian mode' before I see anyone, and Tank knows not to call me until I've had at least two weeks to get my head back on straight. Steph? Insanity follows her, and I love her but I can't take it. I can't come home from six months in Pakistan or Bolivia to her car explosions and injuries. I love her but I'm still in combat mode. I'm still liable to shoot everything moving. I'd kill Edna if I didn't have my head back on straight. Does Hector understand that? Does he understand that I'm liable to shoot the love of my life if she makes a sudden noise?

Does she understand that I don't want to talk? I can't talk about what happened over there. I'd rather get caught up on her gossip because it's soothing. Listening to her talk about Trenton and the 'Burg gossip gives me a chance to relax and unwind. I have all her gossip mentally categorized and memorized because it helps me not think about death and destruction. I sniff her perfume to remind me that I love this scent on that woman. I have a picture of her and Julie (that she didn't find) in my house to remind me that they are my legacy in the world. The woman and the child that don't have my name and who I can't openly claim.

I pull a cotton blanket out and refill the brandy. I move to the sunroom and get comfortable on the couch. I stare out into the starry sky and shake my head. Why did I buy a home at Point Pleasant? Three guesses and you shouldn't need more than one. This is her favorite spot, not mine. I was planning to buy a house in Strathmere until I heard her talk about her family vacations to Point Pleasant. I came, looked around, and it was way too loud for me, but I bought a house in Bay Head. It's quieter, right next to Point Pleasant, and the perfect compromise in my opinion. Even my Jersey beach house is a compromise to make her happy. I'm already compromising to have her in my life and she doesn't notice, but each time she's needed this place, it's been there, ready and waiting on her. It's just another thing that I've done, another attempt to make her happy and provide for her, whether she knows it or not.

Stephanie and Julie. That's what I will leave behind. I'm trying. I guess no one sees that, but I'm already trying to make changes. My daughter doesn't have my name and I sneak around to see her, but that's an improvement from only seeing her upon invitation. The fact that my relationship with her is improving is a joy I'm grateful for every day. My daughter sees me as more than a check, more than the mysterious voice on the phone. Rachel? I'm grateful Ron convinced her to give me another chance and even more grateful that Rachel didn't slam the door shut in my face after Julie was kidnapped by Scrog. No, Rachel actively promoted my relationship with Julie. I fully expected to be cut off from my daughter and instead I'm developing a better, deeper relationship with her. I want the same with Steph. I want this relationship with Steph so badly it hurts.

But I'm scared. I'm scared that she'll run. I had time, after Miami, to think about this. I've had time, on and off, to think about what's going on with Steph, how I've helped her and hurt her, and how this year might change her. I've had time to think about how this year will change **me**. I was afraid of letting her in and coming home from a mission to find that she's gone. Not just dead, but left me, decided it was too much and gave up. I don't want to be a part of the 70% number I've seen. Those men have dead eyes because the women they swore to love all their lives gave up and left. I was determined never to join their ranks.

I'd tell her all of this, except how do you say that to the woman you love without her taking a week or month-long trip to Denial? How do you tell the woman you love that you'd be open to a relationship with her if she loved herself, if she took care of herself, if her safety and security meant as much to her as it does to you? "I love you but you don't love yourself." "I love you, but I need you to carry a gun, care about your health, and work with a partner." "I love you and I wish you loved yourself as much as I do." "I need you to do the following things before I will even consider a life with you."

I snort and sip my brandy. That last one sounds like Morelli and I **refuse** to do that. I came close when I brought her back from Point Pleasant and had to reel myself in. Every single sentence is emotional manipulation and doing that to her would make me no better than him, Mrs. Plum, and most of the 'Burg. That's why I stopped. That's why I stayed back. I'm not going to manipulate her.

I don't see exercising and changing her diet as a necessity in our relationship. It's nice, but what's important to me is that she honors herself by protecting herself, by putting herself first. The gun's nice but not crucial. Can she take a man down without getting hurt? Will she learn to trust her instincts and flee a bad situation? Will she stop thinking that her safety doesn't matter? (OK, maybe the gun is more important than I thought). Shit, she went on a week-long trip to Denial when Morelli decided he'd had enough. I'm sure if I said half the shit I truly think, she might never speak to me again.

I can't believe I've been thinking about this for. . . I check the time. Three hours. I try never to think about this stuff. I'm breaking Hector for this. Steph finally walks in. I've been watching her curly head peek in on me for the past 15 minutes. I flip the blanket back and wait.

"Talk to me."

Quiet, then, "I don't really have anything to say." She walks over and settles next to me. My cock is happy to feel her. Soft, sweet, and those curls are in my face. Dolce Vita and Bvlgari. On anyone else they'd clash. On Steph it's perfect. I wait. "You keep popping up. How does that happen?"

_Sigh_. "Miami was expected. I knew Julie would invite you for her graduation and I'd already planned to be there, so I planned to be 'offline' for a week. I wanted to see you if I could, steal you away from some time together. NYC was an accident. I really was just crashing when I ran into you there."

"This time?"

Open. Be open. "I was worried." Steph shifts and looks at me in the darkness. "This is my first time being on this side of the equation," I tell her softly, "and I'm luckier than all the men I commanded. In a pinch, in a dire emergency, I can get to you. But this is hell. Tell me, would it be easier if I didn't pop up anymore until this is over? Or can you handle seeing me on occasion?"

Steph sighs and cuddles closer to me. I kiss the brunette curls invading my face. "I don't know." Silence, then, "It's hard when you pop up. You aren't supposed to be here but I'm happy when you are."

"But then I'm gone again."

"Yeah."

I was right. I know my Babe. This is exactly why I didn't want to pop up on her anymore. I don't want her to run from me. She's already come close once. "Tell me what you need me to do, Babe. After all, this is an aspect of my life that you'll be getting. Sometimes the mission will be overseas. No popping up. And don't tell me you could handle it because it'll be the first time all over again."

Her eyes are big. "Again?"

I rub her back. "You're getting a domestic with limited contact. A foreign with no contact is a different beast."

Steph exhales and closes her eyes. She snuggles closer to me and buries her face in my chest.

"Pop up. I'll take the time I can get."

* * *

**A/N: Before you start writing your comments, I ****HIGHLY**** recommend that you check out this story in USA Today: usat. ly/ RqpsZV. Remove the spaces and ad : / / to the beginning.**

**This story, and many others, formed the basis of Ranger's POV. He is not trying to be an ass. He is not being difficult. He is a soldier, a highly trained, well-disciplined soldier. Read the story at the USA Today site, and the comments below it, then comment please.**

**Part II of We Talk posts tomorrow. Also, two more side stories, one Tank/Lula, one Housekeeper's Wars.**

**Finally, because I do not want to interrupt the flow of this story, there is a piece I want EVERYONE to read that I will post tomorrow as a separate story called "This was a LONG time coming." ****Please read****.**

**veiland**


	55. We Talk, Part II

**Chapter 54.5: We Talk? Part II**

**Steph's POV**

The next morning, I make it clear I don't want to talk about his op or our relationship any more this week. Ranger puts his blank face in place and nods. I know he's confused. I'm confused, but I know two things.

One: Denial Land will see me soon, and Two: Ella's list is important. I need to know what I want before I talk to Ranger or I might agree to everything he says. Then I'll be angry and looking to get out of it, except I've never made a promise to Ranger that I've broken. I'd like to keep that record.

I'm finally starting to see how important Ella's list is. She and Grandma were right. I've never been able to tell Dickie, Joe or Ranger what **I** want in a relationship, just what I don't want. Dickie dictated the terms in our marriage. I decorated a house I hated because he felt it was the appropriate house for an up-and-coming lawyer. I agreed to start cooking lessons for the dinner parties he assumed we would have. I bit my tongue at his mother's rude comments instead of saying something because Dickie's balls were (and still are) owned by her. By the time I caught him screwing Joyce on my dining room table (the **only** piece of furniture in that entire house I picked and loved), I was ready to call it quits. I didn't want to go to marital counseling to save my marriage. I was _almost_ tempted to send Joyce a thank you note to thank her for giving me the perfect excuse to divorce him without Mom getting on my nerves.

Joe? I've always known what Joe expected. It's why I wouldn't marry him, why I was afraid to marry him. It would have been Dickie all over again. He would have turned me into his mother or my mother. He never asked me what I wanted and didn't want me to say anything while he dictated terms to me. He was frustrated because I wouldn't move in with him, permanently. He was frustrated because I can't cook. He was frustrated because I wouldn't give up bounty hunting. I was frustrated he threw away my peanut butter. I wouldn't have married Joe until I was ready to hang up my handcuffs and start having babies.

Ranger? I've never known what Ranger might want in a relationship. I still have no clue, and he's always told me that he wasn't relationship material. He's always said he didn't want to get married. He said his love came with a condom, not a ring. Now he's telling me I'm his? That I can be certain of that? No I can't. I've never been certain of that. I've wondered. He's given me cars, guns, and backup, but that's stuff. That's not words.

I want words.

I'm realizing that I want Ranger to say more than just 'Babe'. Babe is not a sentence. It's **a** word. I want word**s**, more than one.

I will give Ranger credit for two things. One, I've gotten the actions. Now that I've had time away from him, Joe, and all the 'Burg, I realize that I've always gotten the actions. When my car blew up, he replaced it. When I was kidnapped, he came for me. When I needed money, I had a job, one I only half did sometimes. Ranger gives me things, but that's like me giving Javier money in NYC. Great, but Javi needed words. He needed to know I trusted his judgment. After all the shit he'd been through, he needed words. I gave Javi my trust and he proved he could do the job. Ranger apologized and Javier has been a different man. Ranger gave Javi words and they made all the difference. Ranger's given me things but he hasn't given me words. I get _te amo_ but it's not enough.

I also give Ranger credit for never trying to turn me into a 'Burg housewife. I've never known what he might want but I know what he doesn't need. He doesn't need me to be domestic like Joe and Dickie did. Ranger has housekeepers who are even better at cooking and cleaning than I am. Ranger never asked me to cook while we were in Miami, and any cooking I did was because I wanted to. Even yesterday, the salad I made was because **I** was hungry and I wanted something to eat. I noticed in Miami that he picked up after me. I would drop things and he cleaned up. I didn't think about that until yesterday, when Ranger cleared away all my cooking stuff.

Our week in Miami was the best week we've ever spent together. Ranger let me call the shots. We did what I wanted to do as long as we didn't go out in public. Even there, he risked his cover to take me to the movies and the botanical gardens because I was fed up with being at his house. It was the most romantic time we've ever spent together, but that's it for the entirety of four years.

One week over four years is all I've gotten. I want more.

Our week at Point Pleasant is almost a repeat of our week in Miami.

* * *

**Saturday**

We decide to sit around the house and watch movies. We play poker and I learn that my blank face is absolute crap with Ranger. He calls all of my hands, all the time. I find my laptop and schedule mandatory time on my calendar to work on it. We grill steaks and shrimp and make a massive salad, and Ranger teases me about my newfound love of 'bark and twigs'. I scowl and eat the steak and shrimp for dinner, pointedly ignoring the rabbit food.

He catches me hours later, in the kitchen, eating the leftover salad directly from the container. He takes pictures and we tussle over his phone. He willingly hands it over somewhere between the third and fourth bout of sex on the kitchen countertops.

I delete the incriminating photos while Ranger feeds me ice cream then licks the melted ice cream from my body. We decide against ice cream in bed after we both wake after the sixth bout of sex that day to find we're stuck together.

* * *

**Sunday**

I review the company figures, including some intriguing results from 'the Boston campaign'. I decide to take a break at noon, so I go to the library to find Ranger, who spent the morning reviewing intel.

"How's the case?" I get an eyebrow. "I know you can't tell me anything. All I want to know is if it's going well or not. Do you need more time?"

Something I can't describe crosses Ranger's face before he gives me a small smile and nods. He beckons me forward and kisses my fingers.

"Thanks, Babe," he says quietly.

I go to the kitchen and look at our options. It's not looking good. Everything would require cooking. I decide to call Ella.

"Ella?"

"Stephanie? Is everything OK?"

"Yes, everything is fine, but I need to make a meal and I don't know what to do with what I have."

"Well, what do you have?"

I list my ingredients and Ella hums. "Is there a bottle of roasted garlic vinaigrette?"

"Yes."

"OK, well you have the ingredients for one of Ranger's favorite salads! Combine the artichokes, chickpeas, cucumbers, tomatoes, green beans and the oil-packed tuna with the vinaigrette. Let that marinate together for 30 minutes and serve it with arugula and some French bread."

I'm pulling things out of the fridge as she speaks. I'll have to buy bread, but we have everything else. I put together the salad then poke my head in the library.

"Hey." Ranger turns. "I'm headed to the grocery store for bread."

"Babe," Ranger says, looking worried, "not a good idea."

"I passed Hal's pop quiz on trailing and evasion techniques. I know how to do a cleaning sweep and check for a tail."

"Really?" Ranger looks intrigued, so I tell him about ditching Joyce twice. By the time I get around to the part about Danny driving up, Ranger's laughing so hard he's wiping tears.

"Babe."

I shrug. "I hear she's a little upset. It took her two days to get out of the Pine Barrens." Ranger kisses my forehead and hands me his rental car keys. I head to the grocery store and grab the bread and the rest of the stuff on Ranger's quick grocery list. I'm back in 30 minutes and I find Ranger in the bedroom office.

"Ranger?"

He turns and sets the binoculars on the shelf. "Just checking."

I would get mad, except he thought he might have been followed. I decide to leave this alone. I head back downstairs and notice that the salad is noticeably smaller. Ranger has his blank face on.

"Come here."

He narrows his eyes but comes closer. I smile and pull him closer for a kiss.

Garlic.

"How much of lunch did you eat?"

His lips twitch. "My favorite. Dangerous to leave that salad around me." He takes the French bread and cuts and toasts it while I toss the salad with the arugula and test it. It's pretty good. We divide the salad up and I notice there's enough for another serving for dinner.

"I made lunch. What's dinner?"

"What do you want?"

"Dunno." I look at the fridge then look at Ranger.

"We can grill tuna steaks to go with the salad for dinner."

Not bad. Another decision today made together. I look at Ranger and he's smiling at me. He takes my hand and we smile at each other.

"Breakfast?"

"Doughnuts."

Ranger laughs. I haven't changed **that** much.

* * *

**Monday**

Ranger stuns me by rolling up a rug and putting on salsa music. We salsa around the great room for at least an hour before just swaying in place. I have a great time and I learn that Ranger can really dance. He even teaches me a few more dances. I learn that a bachata requires recovery time (his thigh spends the entire time between my legs. He grins. "If I don't give you an orgasm, I didn't do it well."), my cha cha needs work (I'm sure Hector knows how), and I'd nearly forgotten how to rumba, but the more we dance, the quicker it comes back. Ranger is shocked that I can mambo and merengue. No, he's thrilled that I know the mambo–well, as much as Ranger is going to show. He smiles the entire time. That's my clue.

I teach Ranger the basics of a waltz after realizing he doesn't know how.

"When was I ever gonna waltz in Miami, Babe?" he says, watching his feet.

"I don't know. Weddings? Funerals? Dance competitions?"

I get an eyebrow for that.

Once Ranger has the waltz down, I teach him the foxtrot and jitterbug. We get started on a Charleston, but Ranger watches me perform my part first and decides that's just a bit much. Then he grins and shows me a dance I've never heard of. It looks like a Charleston but requires more movement.

"What's that?"

"Cupid Shuffle."

"What?"

Ranger pulls me forward and walks me through it. "Better learn it now, Babe. Tank and Lula's wedding will be incredible, believe me, and this dance originated in Lafayette, where Tank is from. I promise you you'll end up doing this at the wedding."

Ranger teaches me the Cupid Shuffle, the cha cha slide, corrects my Hustle, and we both practice the Macarena.

"You think we'll end up doing the Macarena?"

"Well, I'm not humping you on the dance floor." I stop and stare at Ranger, who shakes his head. "I've met Tank's family. I love his momma, but the rest of the family is," Ranger thinks, "interesting." He grins. "There will be a few babies made at that reception."

My eyes are wide and Ranger nods.

"I'll double up on the birth control for that wedding."

"I'll double strap."

We look at each other and nod. Another decision made.

* * *

**Tuesday**

Ranger takes over meal prep, not just healthy meals, but stuff closer to what I like. We grill shrimp and steaks to go with the vegetables (I wrinkle my nose. Ranger smiles) and Ranger shows me how to make sorbet, while telling me not to eat the stuff in the grocery store.

"Seriously, Babe. That stuff is pure sugar. Just get some ripe fruit and make your own. It will always be better."

I shrug, but sneak off to the grocery store and look at the labels while Ranger goes for a jog. I purchase two pints and bring them back to the house.

"These aren't too bad." I picked flavors with ingredients I could pronounce, something I learned from Maria.

Ranger looks at the labels and smiles. "OK, you win. Good call, Babe. Reading labels, now?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Was that an attempt to make me read labels?"

Ranger throws his head back and laughs. "Nope. Hadn't even thought of it. I just want you to eat the best food out there. No junk." He kisses me and grins. "I'd like to see you reach Edna's age."

I shiver. Visions of Grandma in a bikini dance through my head.

Ranger restarts my self-defense training. It's actually pretty fun with him. The first time I found myself pinned, I was naked in minutes. Same the second, third, fourth . . . tenth time.

"You should consider Krav Maga, Babe."

I remember Lester saying something about that. "What is it?"

"Israeli tactical self-defense. Dirty street fighting. No holds barred, nothing off limits. Using your body's natural defense mechanism for protection. You'd be a natural."

I roll my hips and Ranger slides inside. It's the last we discuss self-defense for hours.

I thought about refusing sex but I'm not stupid. Ranger is magic in . . . wherever and I like sex. My sugar supply has been decreased, but I've been exercising so much that the energy I would normally devote to sex is being depleted. It's horrible but effective. I'm not horny all the time.

We make love all over his house and it's a repeat of his last two nights in Trenton. He's gentle one minute, rough the next. Again, I'm getting the actions and the words, in Spanish. My blank face slips and Ranger smiles.

"How long have you understood what _te amo_ meant?" he asks softly, nuzzling my neck.

"I looked it up after you left."

He tweaks my nipple. "And?"

A shudder rolls through me. I just orgasmed and he's putting me on sensory overload. I'll orgasm again in minutes if he keeps it up. "Why don't you say it in English?"

I feel him smile at me. "_Debido a que mi lenguaje del amor es el español. Cuando yo hablo en mi lengua materna, me dirijo a ustedes desde mi corazón. Me pregunté cuánto tiempo tomaría para que te conviertas en la curiosidad de saber lo que estaba diciendo._" (Because my love language is Spanish. When I speak in my mother tongue, I speak to you from my heart. I wondered how long it would take for you to become curious to know what I was saying.)

Shit. I understood about half of that. Ranger talks much faster than Hector.

I hear a chuckle in my ear. "Hector's been teaching you?"

"_Sí_," I mutter, irritated. I'm stunned when Ranger rolls away, turns on a light and laughs. He smiles the 1000W smile.

"Babe," he says, smiling.

"_Eso es irritante._" (That's irritating.)

"_¿Qué es?_" (What is?)

I think about the sentence I want to say and realize I'm missing some words. I sigh.

"_Necesito más de 'Babe', Carlos_." (I need more than 'Babe', Carlos.)

Ranger's eyes go wide and the next thing I know, I'm chanting his name. The next three hours are the most amazing lovemaking I've ever had. He leaves no inch of my body untouched and he whispers _te amo_ the entire time. I cry at the end and Ranger wipes away my tears and settles me close to his body.

"_Sé que necesitas más de 'Babe', Stephanie, pero necesito que me diga lo que necesitas. Te daré todo lo que desees. Basta con que me lo pides. Sólo quiero que me ames como te amo."__ (_"I know you need more than 'Babe', Stephanie, but I need you to tell me what you need. I'll give you anything you want. Simply ask me. I just want you to love me as I love you.)

Again, I got about half that sentence. _Sigh_. We're going to have to talk about this.

* * *

**Wednesday**

I bring Ranger up to date on the company. He's quiet.

"Proud of you, Babe."

I smile. "I'm not sure what to do with these weeks at the beach for the men."

"What was your original idea?"

I sigh and kiss Ranger's collarbone. I can feel his cock stirring next to my hip. I'll have to make another condom run. "When we were in NYC, right after we hired Jorge, Les and I watched him, Diego, and Manny bounce ideas around with Javi. It was brilliant. You would've loved it. I thought the strategists should definitely get together to do it and when I rented the house the idea popped in my head. Like a leadership retreat. I thought it would be good for the XOs too. I'm not sure what to do with the liaisons."

Ranger nods and strokes my back. "RangeWorld. Call Hector to join them and let them build it out. Each group can get together and decide what's needed for their branch."

I grin. Perfect! Finally, something to do with them.

"I'm impressed, Babe. I knew you'd blow things up." I frown but I can see Ranger's 1000W smile in the dark. "Seriously. I told you that I was certain that I wouldn't recognize my company when this year was over and, from what little Hector tells me, I'm certain I was right." He kisses my forehead.

"Hector doesn't tell you what I'm up to?" I thought he did.

"Nope. He said I'll get the full report at the end of the year. He doesn't want to feed me anything more about your success until then. What you've told me is the most I've learned since NYC. So if you don't tell me, I don't know." He snorts. "Sneaky little shit. He's even locked me out of all of the reports." He chuckles. "I can't wait to take him to the mats and remind him who's boss."

"I'm the boss."

Ranger blinks and looks at me. I'm smiling. I love my partner. "I stand corrected. You **are** the boss. My apologies, Babe." He chuckles then laughs. "Can I have access to my company again? Please?"

"Nope. You asked me to run it. You'll have to get your info from me."

Ranger laughs. I don't think I've ever heard him laugh like that and it's infectious. I start laughing too and we're both in stitches. I have to get Hector something special. "So what does he tell you?"

"Last story I heard was you caught a skip by slamming a car door in his face. I loved it. Laughed for hours because I could imagine it." He chuckles softly. "He did tell me the guys gave you free rein. Anything you want to do you can do, and I agree, Babe. 5% growth?" He raises an eyebrow. "It's taking all I have not to show my appreciation all over your body. Have you thought about staying on?"

I sigh and flop back on the bed. Ranger rolls over on top of me and slides his hands between my thighs. I guess he lost the fight. "I like the job but. . . "I'm rapidly losing the ability to think, "I don't have any freedom. I can't dictate my day." The fingers stop. "I'm frustrated."

"Babe, look at me." I look into Ranger's eyes. He's solemn. "Stick with it until you make standards, OK? You'll have more freedom then." I nod. "I would work from this house one out of three weeks, just to escape Trenton."

Ella is never wrong. "So when you were 'in the wind'?"

Ranger grins. "One hour away. Just to have time to myself."

Something else to talk about later. I ponder Ranger's statement. "Hal and Hector are overprotective," I grumble.

"They love you and they're scared of something happening to you before you can hold your own. Sorry Babe, but experience tells them to shadow you until they're certain you can hold your own."

I blow out a breath and bite my lip to keep from crying. No freedom. I'm being treated like child.

Ranger sighs audibly. "No one thinks of you as a child, Babe. You . . . "he trails off, thinking. "You're precious. Precious to the men. Precious to me. My Babe. Their Bombshell. Their CO. They only want what's best and for you to be safe. You still call the shots on what you want to do and the men don't argue with you about it. You just have a partner now, someone determined to resolve all threats. I know you love Lula, but Lula is not a partner, Babe."

I stifle a giggle. "She can shoot. She rides along. She helps me find my skips."

"You find your own skips, she can't hit shit and she constantly leaves you stranded in a tight spot, i.e. at the Cop Shop." I laugh and Ranger looks as if he's thinking of smiling. "Lula's got a surprise coming." I raise an eyebrow and Ranger shakes his head, smiling. "Lula will have to go through the same thing out in San Antonio if she expects to be a bounty hunter out there."

I look at Ranger, shocked. "Really?"

He nods. "That's Tank's home territory now. His patch and Texans are serious about gun rights and gun safety. Lula's indiscriminate shooting will land her in jail in Texas and it will cost Tank serious political and financial capital to straighten it out."

"Does she get a choice in the matter?"

"Of course. There's always a choice, Babe. If she wants to be a bounty hunter, she'll have to train and work with a RangeMan partner. Tank's not putting his license and the branch on the line for Lula. Simple as that."

"That's not a choice, Ranger."

Ranger looks at me, clearly bewildered. "How is that not a choice?"

"Lula doesn't have any other options? What if she wants to be a bounty hunter but not work for RangeMan?" I'm just being difficult now. I don't like what Ranger is suggesting. It's pissing me off.

Ranger puts his blank face into place. "Why would she want to work solo?"

"Maybe she doesn't want to answer to Tank. That can be difficult, working for the man you love. Makes them unequal."

Ranger is quiet. "Is that your concern for Lula, Babe, or your concern for yourself?"

Both, but I don't say anything.

Ranger rolls off me and turns on the bedside light. "OK, here's the deal. Lula can't just shoot people simply because she's used to doing it in New Jersey. Texas is not New Jersey. Cops there won't stand for it. What're you suggesting, Babe? That she should be able to put all the San Antonio RangeMen at risk simply because she doesn't want to train? That she should put Tank's bounty hunter license at risk? Do you want to put my bounty hunter license at risk?"

"I'm not on your license."

"Yes, you are. The moment we hired you, I had to update the State Police Superintendent of a new employee practicing under my license. You have your own license, but since you work for RangeMan, you also work under my license. State law." Ranger lifts an eyebrow. "As Vinnie's employee, you worked under his license. Every time Lula shot at someone just because she could, she put your license and Vinnie's license at risk. That's why she will never partner you as long as you work for RangeMan and she's untrained. I refuse to allow her to put my license at risk. Every RangeMan, across the company, works under my license in each state where we have a presence."

I'm shocked. I didn't know that and I don't like this conversation. I see the parallels. "Is that what you thought of me? That I didn't do the job right?"

Silence, then, "No, and I'm insulted you'd say that." He sounds insulted, too. He sounds as if he's saying that through clenched teeth. I cringe. "You did, you do the job well, Babe. Your apprehension skills needed serious work but even there, you still got the man. All we want is for you to get the man without getting hurt yourself. Nothing more, nothing less."

I smile. OK. "Lula?"

"More mouth than talent." I laugh. "Ferocity of a junkyard dog but nothing to back it up. Pair her natural aggressiveness with some actual skill and Lula would be unstoppable." Ranger grins. "I'm sure Tank's wondering how he's going to manage it."

I look at Ranger and we both laugh. Tank's doomed.

* * *

**Ranger's POV**

Is that what Steph thinks? That we want to prevent her from doing what she wants? Shit! Grow the fuck up! We want you to do exactly what you want, but we want you to be able to take down any threat to your safety. We want your independence more than you do, Babe!

It's been a great week and I've really been stunned and thrilled with the changes I see in my Babe, but I'm back to being frustrated and irritated with her. I've never understood this childish opposition to basic training that she has. My life is dangerous. Fuck, her life is dangerous! I want her, but I want her to be ready for whatever comes her way. If she can't accept that, she can go back to being on the sidelines of my life. Nothing more. I'm done.

I'm not opening up to someone who doesn't care about herself. I choose to do a dangerous job and I care about my life, so I stay in peak physical condition and I train. That's all I want from Steph. I want her to care about her life enough to safeguard it. After all, if we ever had kids, how would she protect them? Is she prepared to protect our children? Is she prepared to protect Julie, if she had to? Hell, is she prepared to protect Hector?

I think the knowledge that Lula was fucking with her job every time she shot at someone was surprising, and it makes me want to string Vinnie up. How in the hell could he let Steph do the job without making sure she was clear on all the state guidelines? Did Vinnie really teach her _nothing_ about the industry and the state laws? Shit! I thought she knew she was working under my license now. That's basic. Please tell me I don't have to go over the basic information about the state laws with her. Steph's been a bounty hunter for four years. I shouldn't have to tell her about the laws that govern her profession in this state.

Clearly, I'm taking too much for granted. Every RangeMan in the company knows he works under my license, which is another reason why my men train obsessively. After all the trouble I had to go through to clear up the 'misunderstanding' in Vegas, every man in the company knows to ensure that his captures are as clean as possible. Everything needs to be documented. If I question you about it, I should be left in no doubt as to what happened.

Thursday morning, I run along the beach. That conversation really screwed my head. I thought we were past this. I thought she understood. I thought she was ready to make the shift to caring about herself. I pushed myself to talk, and talk a lot, instead of giving one word answers. I pushed past the discomfort to show her my heart. I spoke to her, from my heart, because I know I need to start making the effort. I wanted to leave her this week knowing that she **knew** that I love her. She knows what I'm saying when I speak from my heart. She understands _te amo_. I wonder if I should tell her she's the only woman I've ever said that to?

I hope Lester really doesn't think he's going to sneak up on me.

"Not gonna happen, _primo_."

"Shit!" Les runs alongside me. "Any reason we're killing ourselves right now?"

"Your psyop is failing and I'm wondering if it's worth the effort."

Les stops in his tracks. "What do you mean it's failing? What happened?"

I repeat last night's conversation to Les. This is his plan. I want to see him work it because I'm ready to throw in the towel. I'm not having that insane conversation ever again. I love her. I want her to love herself.

Les smiles. "Work it off. She's testing you. Ella already had the conversation with her."

I drop to the sand and start some pushups. Gotta keep the heart rate up. Les sighs and drops with me. "Seriously, Les. The attitude to training is really pissing me off. I'm tired of caring for her more than she cares for herself. She fails to see that if she trained and carried her gun, she could do any fucking thing she wanted. The men would back off because they'd know she could handle herself. As it is, yeah, we're all treating her like a child." I shake my head just slightly in frustration.

Les looks at me and sighs. "I know. I know how you feel. You talked this week?" I nod. "So you're making the effort. You're showing her you love her and you care." He smirks. "You need to work on your patience with your woman. She already knows she's close to meeting the physical standards. Some more work on the self-defense and hand-to-hand and she's cleared. Meanwhile, have you thought about what it's going to be like to have her in your life?"

I look at Les sharply. Did he and Hector coordinate this? He laughs. "Thought not. You better start giving it some thought. If you want her in your life, the days of being mysterious and keeping her at arms-length are about to end. Find topics you can talk about and work on that. In the meantime, remember that she's testing boundaries right now. You have four years of shitty statements to make up for."

I cringe mentally and Les smirks. "Yeah, you can expect more of those 'testing' conversations. She's not sure if she trusts this 'Road to Damascus' conversion from you. You're just going to have to be patient and give her time to accept that you really do want a relationship with her and remember: your opinion still means the world to her. Don't cut communication with her. She needs you now more than ever. Motivation, not reason."

Les slaps my back and jogs back to the house, leaving me on the beach to think about it.

I haul my tired ass off the sand and start jogging again. I'm shocked to see Babe behind me. I stop. "Babe."

"Ranger." She's puffing but she's steady. She doesn't even stop for me, so I catch up and jog next to her. After 20 minutes, we turn back to the house, where Steph immediately drops and does her pushups. She rests, then flips and does her sit ups.

No coercion on my part. No whining, no sulking. She went jogging, then did her pushups and sit ups. I'm stunned.

OK, maybe I called it wrong last night. She really **is** making the effort to get stronger, to take herself seriously. So was last night's conversation about her or Lula? I can't tell and it's driving me crazy. Any other woman, I'd call this as an attempt to piss me off, but this is Steph. Trying to predict her behavior is as useful as trying to predict the weather. Yeah, there are patterns to follow, but you could always end up wrong and in need of an umbrella.

Both Hector and Les have said the same thing. I need to start thinking about what it will be like having her in my life. I stop, considering it. _Shit!_ I need to put some thought into it. I have **no** idea how that's going to work. Babe's clearly making the effort. I need to match her. I need to figure out what I'm going to do.

I slide back into the house and start packing. I could actually stay here another week, but I decide to slide back to North Carolina. I think The Cop is close to pulling in another one (The bastard is good at his job, I give him that) and I need to prep the takedown.

I turn and Steph's watching from the doorway. I smile and raise an eyebrow. She walks in and flops on the bed.

"Les?"

"Gone to the rental."

I slide my fingers across her belly and pull her close. The kiss is bittersweet.

"Dunno when you'll see me next. Stay safe. I'm proud of you, Babe."

Steph smiles. "Back at you, Ranger. Please," she looks at me, "stay safe," she whispers.

I kiss her and grab my bags. I head downstairs, toss them in the car, and turn back to the house. Les has returned and Steph appears with her bags. Les and I take them and put them in his rental car. I lock the house, set the security, and turn. Les and Steph are backing out the driveway. Steph locks eyes with me and I watch the car until she disappears from view.

_Te amo también_ Babe.


	56. Strategists Week at the Beach, Part I

**A/N: The Album for Steph's Point Pleasant rental is on my profile.**

* * *

**Chapter 56 Strategists Week at the Beach, Part I**

**Patrick's POV—Last week**

0900. Time for the pulse check.

"Yo!" Diego.

"Yo!" x5.

"Roll call. Miami, present." Miami always starts the pulse check and we move north to each branch.

"Atlanta, present." Chase.

"Trenton, present." Manny.

"NYC, present." Jorge. Cool guy. I'm starting to like him.

"Boston, present."

"Good. Turning this over to Trenton," Diego says.

"Thanks. OK, men, here's the deal. Everyone got their invitation to the beach, with the address and suggestions, correct?"

"**HUA**!"

"Good. Here's the deal. We need to do something to say 'thank you' to the CO. She's taken her time at the beach, which was supposed to be private, and done what she felt was right for the company. She's invited each group of men to spend time together, as a group, to get to know her and to know each other. We've never done this before and we need to thank her."

I agree. The moment I got my invite I was stunned. It was really thoughtful and it's the first time the strategists have **ever** gotten together as a group. I get to meet all my colleagues face to face for the first time and not wonder if they're snooping in my branch.

"Additionally, we are going to be the CO's only protection at the beach. The Trenton rep, meaning me, is taking point with Hector on her security, and I'll explain the security setup when you guys get here, but trust me, technically we are each her bodyguard service for the week."

"Is Hector staying?" Chase asks. Thank you, man.

"Nope. This is a moment of trust for the two of them. The CO argued that with five other RangeMen onsite, she shouldn't need Hector at her back. He's not a happy man about this, so we have to take this seriously."

Done. Never want Hector mad at me.

"She still has her trackers, so he's watching from a distance and he'll know if and when we fuck up. I'm determined that won't happen."

"**HUA**!" Complete agreement on the line.

"Next thing. I'm sure you guys remember that memo we sent a few weeks ago, about treading carefully around the CO?" Agreement on the line. "Well, essentially, the CO felt smothered around here. We're trying to loosen the restrictions, let her have a bit more freedom, so I propose taking each morning and finding something fun for her to do. Each man is responsible for coming up with something fun and stress-free for the CO to do during the day, and we'll figure out the last day. For example, I'm bringing a beach volleyball set. It's fun, we can do three-man teams, and it's exercise. We do it in the morning, before the sun gets too hot, and the CO gets fun in the sun and time with all of us at the same time."

Damn. That's a great idea. I heard Manny was a smart guy so I can't wait to really spend some time around him.

"Atlanta."

"Go ahead."

"If I recall correctly, the CO can put away a plate, but she's not big on cooking, right?"

Smothered laughs. "Correct."

"That rental got a BBQ?"

Silence, then, "I'll ask."

"Ask. I can burn a meal, bro, so if Ella isn't doing food service and the CO is alone with us, we gotta eat. If she's got a grill, I've got dinner."

"I'll help," I add. "I'm good with a sauté pan. If Atlanta has the grill, I can do the inside work."

"Excellent," Manny replies. "The CO **can** put away a meal. I'll find out about the grill situation by 1500."

I think quickly and come up with an idea. "Yo, Trenton!"

"Yeah?"

"Boston is proposing a sand castle contest."

Silence then laughter on the line. I'm grinning. Hey, it's cute fun.

"Dude, how little girly! Sandcastles?" Jorge says, laughing.

"Yeah, man. Either we can each build one and let the CO choose the best or we can do it in two or three man teams. More fun in the sun."

"Lemme guess. You're good at this because you have a daughter and want to see us all go down?"

"Partially true. My daughter is five months old. I need to start practicing."

More laughter but Manny agrees to write it down as an idea.

"OK, final thing. The CO told me that this is supposed to be a 'rap session' for us, a chance for all of us to get together as a group and bounce ideas off each other. I'm not sure yet if Lester will be joining us. Last I heard he was, but there may be something going on in San Antonio that keeps him away. Move forward under the assumption that he's coming also."

"That would be the correct assumption to make." Lester. The line goes silent.

"Sir, words for us?" Manny says. I'm impressed that his voice is steady.

"None. I've liked everything I've heard so far. Pleased and proud that you men are taking this time with the CO seriously. And I rock sandcastles."

The tension was broken. We laughed.

* * *

**Lester's POV—Friday**

Steph's rental is classy. Two blocks from the beach, gorgeous views, nice amount of space. It's the perfect setup. As each man arrives and settles into a room, Steph greets them, tells them how the room arrangements work and lets them roam around. Like true security consultants, their first request is an explanation of the security here. Hector and I are onsite as Manny does the demo. I can sense Hal's stamp on it everywhere. I grin internally. No one is going to get at Hal's little sister. Not if he can prevent it.

"_He did a good job_," Hector mutters. I can see he is unwillingly impressed by the setup.

"_She still needs you, man. Trust me._"

After that, they kick back and start setting up meals for the week.

I arrived yesterday to help Ella with the preparations. Steph's parents had taken the small charcoal grill back to Trenton, so Ella purchased a gas grill and I loaded it, and the propane tank, into the van for transport to Point Pleasant. Steph and I went shopping for groceries and the fridge is stocked, but I tell Chase and Pat to check it out. Put anything they need on the corporate card and charge it back to Ella. She'll take care of expensing it.

Steph and I pull all the men into the living room for a chat after the sun goes down. This chat is being helped along by lots of Tequila Sunrises.

"OK, so let me explain why I asked you guys to join me here," Steph says, settling against my side. Ranger's a bastard. He better make a move or I will. "When I was in NYC, right when we hired Jorge, I was impressed by the way he, Javi, Diego, and Manny bounced ideas off each other. Les was with us and we both said later that it was like watching a musician's jam session. Chase, Pat, if we'd had more time, we would've asked you to join us. It was really spectacular." She grins and Manny, Diego, and Jorge high five each other. Chase and Pat boo and laugh.

"So when I was here for some R&R, I decided to convert some of my weeks into time with you guys. One, so you can get together and do that as a group and two, so we can have some team building and trust in this group."

There's silence at that statement. Heads nod solemnly.

"I, personally, hate the way you guys don't share information in this company. I know that there are other factors behind that, but today Les and I are here to say that, at least among the strategists, it has to stop. You guys are the idea men. All of you, plus Les, keep the company moving forward and I need you to work as a team for the company, not just for your separate branch."

She looks at me and I nod. She nods back. Oh, OK. And when did Beautiful get some ESP?

"One of my early ideas for the company was moving the strategists around within the company, placing you in another branch for a quarter once a year, so no one got stale. Plus, it would allow you to see how other offices run and make you more accountable to the company than to a single branch. Ranger held off on that idea, but with both me and the CO backing it, it may become a reality for you."

The men are wide-eyed.

"I'm holding off and the CO and I will take this week to determine the best reporting structure for what I want to accomplish, but know this: She was right in her assertion that the strategists will begin working as a team. That's why I'm here this week. As Chief Strategist for the company, I set direction in this, so I'm here to make sure it happens. Understood?"

"**HUA**!"

* * *

**Jorge's POV—Saturday**

I'm nervous about being here on my own, without Javi, with all these guys from around the company. Javi said not to worry. I already know Manny and Diego and I need to get to know Pat and Chase. It would be a good trip. And at the very minimum, I've met the CO and Chief Strategist before. Piece of cake. Nothing to worry about.

The man is insane. These guys are security experts. They carry like it's another hand. I'm still trying to get comfortable with wearing a holster. Let's not talk about the hand to hand. Shit, I'm a money man. The hardest thing I ever did before joining this company is order in French. These guys are completely intimidating and they do it as easily as breathing. The war stories they told last night made me shit my pants. Lester? Complete fear. Total. I understand the NYC men now. I don't know if I ever want to meet Ranger.

Manny drags the CO out of bed and onto the beach for beach volleyball first thing this morning. The CO in basic black is one thing. The CO in a bikini is another. I'm not looking, but I can see I'm not the only man having slight problems. I think we're all going to claim 'morning wood' this time. Lester stands at the side of the net taking pictures and we learn the CO can definitely serve. She can't return too well, but she can hit the ball hard. The game is fun and 2.5 hours slip by before we hear a sound.

_**GRRRROOOWWLLLLLL**_

We all drop and reach for our guns. Lester rolls on the ground laughing. The CO turns red, and we're still looking around for the animal that made that noise when Manny straightens and looks at the CO.

"Er . . . hungry, Steph?

She blushes. "I told you to feed me before bringing me out here."

We all look at each other and snicker. Lester finally contains himself and he picks Steph up and carries her back to the house over his shoulder, Steph pounding his back and yelling the entire way. Hilarious. I slide next to Manny and ask, "Are they together?"

He looks over, a serious look on his face. "No. The CO's heart belongs to our CCO, Ranger. They're both fighting it. And you will never verbalize what I just said." I nod. Still, Lester and Steph look awfully close. Manny notices my face and smiles. "They're friends, best friends. They've always been like that. Don't read anything more into it. She's not like that and neither is he."

If you say so, man. Tatiana has made me more wary of that kind of behavior. Her 'friend' was also her lover and I had to get a paternity test to prove Annalise was mine. Another reason to be loyal to RangeMan. The guys did something, no idea what, but my case for modification and visitation was accelerated forward. With Javi speaking on my behalf, as my new boss, I got everything I wanted. I have my daughter every other weekend and my child support was reduced going forward. The back amount was put on a payment plan. Last weekend was my first weekend with my little girl and it was rough, but by the end, she and I were giggling. I can tell Tatiana has poisoned her against me but this is my time to correct that impression.

Pat takes over KP duty and we're digging into scrambled eggs and bacon in no time. After a great breakfast, I take clean up duty while Chase sets a huge hunk of meat on the grill. He grins. "Pulled pork." Nice! Once we're done, we nap, watch TV or read for a while. At 1400 (I'm getting there), Lester calls us all to the living room.

"So, let's talk. I want to know your current state. Status of current offerings, roadblocks to getting them implemented, whatever you have going now that you need help with."

We sit and get comfortable. I notice the CO's not present. Lester notices my concern and he smiles. "She's coming." Sure enough, the CO joins us, sitting next to Lester again but with her feet on Manny. He grins and twists her big toe until she yelps and slaps his arm.

We grin. She's so much fun.

Miami starts and Diego reports he's just getting caught up but everything is cool in Miami. Shane accepted his demotion quietly but Diego would prefer he leave. The men there are hostile toward him even though he didn't have a chance to screw up the Miami office. Lester nods and turns to Chase. Chase reports Atlanta's cool but they're really at a point with the Charlotte office that it's going to need some attention from Leadership Core. Pat has a weird look on his face at that statement. Les makes a note.

"Anything else?"

"Nope. Bonds Enforcement is going gang-busters." He grins. "We tipped Trenton last week. Zip is one pissed man." Lester roars with laughter and the other guys congratulate Atlanta on their success. The CO groans and holds a pillow to her face. "He keeps saying it's all about the monthly figures and I get the feeling that Trenton's been told to reclaim the crown or else!"

Lester starts typing on his phone while Manny pulls the pillow from Steph's face. "You know what's coming."

She nods. "Zip's gonna kill me. I'm going to spend the rest of my life conducting skip tracing workshops." She glares at him. "Those folders better not find their way into my work pile."

Manny grins. "I'll do my best."

Meanwhile, Lester's phone rings.

"Chase!"

"Bobby!" Oh, the Chief Liaison.

"Please tell me you're not shitting me! You tipped Trenton?" He sounds thrilled.

"Yeah, man! My guys are goin' gangbusters to keep the crown."

The laughter from the phone is intense. Finally Bobby says, "If you tip Trenton for the month, I fund the party for Bonds Enforcement."

"Dude!" Les says, "Trenton is mine! Manny, get your team together. This is bullshit!" Manny grins and types an email on his phone. The rest of us are calling bets on Atlanta v. Trenton. Bobby disconnects and Les grins. "That's the kinda news I like to hear. Anything else?" Chase shakes his head.

"Trenton?"

"Determined not to let Chase's bunch of losers tip us!" Manny says, and we all laugh. "Meanwhile, Personal Investigations is making money hand over fist, but we're going to need more men. I've had an idea." Les sits back and nods. "I'd like to partner with NYC on this." I look over. Manny is serious. "I'm wondering if we could expand our Newark satellite office and center Investigations there. I know Javi needs more space for his Business Investigations group and we need more men for Personal Investigations. Center all investigations in a central spot between the branches."

I nod. I like the idea. "Accounting belongs to the branch generating the work, but they share the workload?"

"Yeah."

Solves a problem for us. "I'm cool with it. Commute's gonna hurt. An hour for each." We both nod. Steph and Lester write it down and sit back.

"Roadblocks?"

"We'll work it out. New idea. Biggest one at the moment is commute."

Les nods. "NYC?"

I'm nervous but it's my time to show I know what I'm doing. "Passports." Les looks up, frown on his face. "I need passports to be another item done during employee intake. We're getting interest from Manhattan in the international portion of the investigations. 80% of the contracts we sign are up-front retainers on a fee schedule, and I underestimated the interest in the international investigations portion of the business investigations idea. I'm sitting on around $25 million in work with at least another $50 million out there. I'm hearing rumbles that DC-based outfits are interested and want to see our results."

There's shocked silence in the room. Steph is looking at me as if she's never seen me before. So is everyone else. Have I fucked up somewhere? I thought they were interested in international.

"Are you telling me that there's almost $75 million in work out there for us to pick up?" Les asks slowly.

"Yes, sir."

Lester's head has steadily turned until he's looking at me sideways. Finally, he starts laughing, quietly, then loud. The rest of the guys are shaking their heads. Steph glances at Manny and nods. Manny leaves the room and returns with tequila. I've learned that tequila is the 'toast' liquor in this company.

"To Jorge Ortega! The man knows business and business is **really motherfucking good!**"

* * *

**Manny's POV—Sunday**

Jorge headed off to Mass this morning. He was the only one. The rest of us sat around stunned. Steph and Chase hit the beach and Pat decided to follow them soon after.

Holy shit! Jorge's been an employee for six weeks and he's blowing up NYC. Lester spent the morning looking at the NYC figures. He wasn't joking in yesterday's toast. In the three months since Steph sent me and Diego to NYC, they've rebounded. Lester won't tell us their figures, but he spent the morning talking to Tank and Bobby in French and the sounds we overheard made it clear that NYC is making major bank again.

I step into the backyard to think. My instincts on him were right. The man was the right person for NYC. I call Hal and give him the info I have. It's clear that we don't have just Atlanta as competition. Hal is speechless. I tell him I'll start working on new offerings for Trenton, but I hope to get the investigations group expanded sooner rather than later. Hal says he'll update Ram. We need ideas and we need them _fast_. NYC is clearly aiming for Boston and we want to tip them first.

I hang up the phone and find Les in front of me, grinning. He shakes his head and sits. He doesn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he turns to me.

"I want you to know that Leadership Core has been extremely impressed by the work you've done since your promotion."

I blink. Wow.

"I, personally, have wondered if our extended stay in Trenton suppressed your natural instincts. Now that I'm seeing them come out in more than just Apprehensions, I'm thinking of more and more things for you to do. Meanwhile, the other work you've been doing?" He inclines his head and I nod. Ranger. "He's pleased with your work to the point that he's _vocal_." Les shakes his head.

I'm stunned. Ranger does not compliment. "I've done what I was asked to do."

Les shakes his head. "There's doing what you're asked to do and there's doing it really _really_ well. You've impressed us all, had us wondering if you're at the wrong level."

"No, sir," I reply. "I have no interest in being an XO."

Les smiles. "I wasn't thinking of making you an XO, Manny. That would be a waste of your skills and talents. Continue to perform at this level and I have bigger things in mind for you." He pats my shoulder and leaves.

I'm stunned. What on earth does he have planned?

* * *

**Chase's POV—Monday**

Marcus reports that Zip called and declared war. I laugh. It's on between Atlanta and Trenton. Danny reports that he and Hal spend their time trash talking each other and strategizing to take Mark down. Now that NYC seems to be in the loop, they've brought Javi in on it and he's eager to take Boston down. Payback, he says.

I spend Sunday night laughing with Bobby. My cousin is so freakin' thrilled he barely knew how to contain himself.

"Chase, man, please tell me you aren't fucking with me?"

"Man, I'm telling you, I need to catch Les today and tell him that our Hospitality services in Atlanta and Charlotte are getting great reviews. I don't have to chase contracts for that anymore. We're hoping that the liaisons spend their week here fine tuning RangeWorld so those requests just start feeding in."

"What's the numbers looking like?"

"Bonds Enforcement is now a solid 25% of our work. We're picking up more bonds agencies in Atlanta and Charlotte. Redecorating is 15%. Hospitality is 30%. The last 30% is the traditional stuff, bodyguards, monitoring, etc."

"Jesus fucking Christ! That's insane."

"Yeah. I'm telling you, the CO is loved in Atlanta. Being able to move on Hospitality and improving in Bonds Enforcement made her a rock star with us."

"Good," he says quietly. "She's a good woman, smart and fun."

I laugh. "You don't have to sell me. Stephanie Plum is loved in Atlanta. The men would really like her to visit again soon. Danny loves her, says she's informed his leadership."

"How?"

"He's quicker to ask us what we need now. I didn't think about that until I realized that's the major thing she did when she visited. Asked us what we needed and made it happen. Then we heard that's what she did in NYC and look at how they've improved. Every manager in Atlanta has made that a part of his management meetings, asking the men what they need to do the job."

I can almost hear my cousin nodding his head. "Good to know. Anything else I should know?"

"When we win, my vote is for Magic City."

"DollHouse, dude. More variety, less likely to see something from a rap video." Bobby laughs and hangs up.

I turn around to the sound of giggles. Steph is standing there with a bottle of water.

"Strip clubs?" I nod, grinning enthusiastically. "Find something else. Danny and Hal agreed no strippers."

"Damn!"

She throws her head back and laughs. I shake my head. Married men and XOs with girlfriends. Complete party dampeners.

* * *

Pat's idea of a sandcastle contest is a great one. By noon, there are seven sandcastles on the beach and the CO declares hers the best. Les responds by diving on it, so she dives on his. At 1215, there are zero sandcastles on the beach. Little kids have to tell us to behave, which makes everyone laugh.

I've been demonstrating superiority with the grill. Steph has stayed safely away and each of us has pulled out our best meals. I do a Boston butt for pulled pork sandwiches. The CO eats those as if the world might end tomorrow and snaps at anyone who stretches a finger toward her plate. We crack up.

Monday afternoon, we reassemble in the living room.

"Jam session," Steph says, smiling.

We grin. Each man has his best ideas written. The rest of the afternoon is the most fun I've had at work in years. Jorge? That man is clearly an up-and-comer. If it can make bank in NYC, he's thought about it, strategized, and come up with pricing schemes. We are stunned. He has the ideas and the marketing plans for his five best ideas ready for us to discuss.

"So . . . you're thinking of marketing this to concierges in NYC Hotels?" Les says, looking through his newest bodyguard proposal.

"Yes, sir. Diego and I have talked about this. As you'll recall, I said that if you don't have a niche, this is dead in NYC. Concierges know everyone and they get requests for everything, but I asked a few hotel managers and assistant managers I know about the bodyguard services they recommend. No one really had one, although they get requests. They simply call until they can get a bodyguard. This is a service we can promote in every branch, especially for executives who travel between those cities."

I write a note. Good idea. I never realized Charlotte was such a big financial hub until we started building the branch. Contract bodyguard service for financial executives who need one but don't need a permanent guard would be a great service to promote in our locations. Almost airport-to-airport service. Brilliant! The CO is leafing through the proposals while working through a pint of ice cream, although she has to protect the pint from Les and Manny, who continually attempt to 'help' her with their spoons.

"OK, men, pick at it. What are they forgetting? What do they need to consider?" She growls at Manny and slides onto the floor. We crack up.

We start tearing the idea apart, although between Diego and Jorge, they hadn't left many holes. Pat is best at it but even he had to concede defeat after a while.

"My other idea, one I think we can take company wide, is going after more minority- and female-owned businesses," Jorge says.

Steph perks up and leans forward. "Go on," she says. Les is grinning.

"Well, it's common in NYC for women to hit the glass ceiling and decide to leave and start their own firms. I have six former colleagues who have done just that, but they need a variety of things they wouldn't necessarily think of. Security assessments for their buildings, self-defense training because they're now vulnerable targets, bodyguards, all the stuff we're marketing to major firms. Some of it we could and should do pro-bono, to get our name out there among them, but women talk. It wouldn't take long for RangeMan to circulate among the ladies."

Steph snorts and we all laugh.

"Minority-owned businesses are the same. There's major capital there that flies under the radar, but in Harlem and Brooklyn it doesn't. Mack gave me the names of eight guys he plays ball with on a regular basis and the combined net worth of those men?" He pauses and looks at Steph seriously. "$25 million, give or take."

"How did Mack meet those guys?" Manny asks in confusion.

"Athletic league. They don't care about background as long as you can dominate the half court, and Mack's good. I went with him one day and I'm not bragging on myself," he grins, "but I've still got it too. Mack introduced me as a former Wall Street banker and the next thing I know I'm talking to guys I've only read about in magazines. None of these guys has a bodyguard or has ever had a security assessment done."

Les grins. "So he took you along to start the conversation?"

Jorge nods. "Yeah. I'm working with him when it comes to feeling comfortable in front of clients but in this case, even though they talk shit on the courts, he wasn't feeling comfortable talking business after. I got those conversations started and we're already looking at a couple of contracts for security assessments."

Everyone is writing notes. I'm making a massive list of guys to talk to. I'm feeling a bit ashamed that Jorge thought that up before I did. I'm in **Atlanta**, home of black millionaires who like to flaunt and spend their cash. I think about it and make a note to ask Aunt Maxine, Bobby's mom, for advice. She's in that old money set and she would know who I could contact first.

"Chase?"

"I'd like to discuss more financial services offerings." I present my proposals and watch them get picked apart. It's great. Normally, this is the stuff I do with Marcus and Danny, but I can see the wisdom of calling on the other strategists. Marcus and Danny picked at my offerings before I left but man! Pat's a **beast** when it comes to probing for weaknesses. Between him, Manny, and Les, my ideas were shredded and put back together stronger and with better clarity. Jorge and Steph agreed to sit with each man and look at pricing schemes. Normally I'd reject that, but with Jorge's background in finance, we're all willing to share numbers.

By the time I'm ready to start Monday dinner, Les and Steph are sitting back, looking exhausted.

Les grins. "This is work for the next 10 years." He looks at Steph. "I'm going on an extended vacation."

"Oh, no you don't," she replies, smiling. "You do that and I'm headed on an extended vacation, minus RangeMen."

"And you're going to sell that to Hector how?" Les asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Crap!"

"Exactly," Les says, looking smug.

* * *

I spend the evening at the beach, looking out into the Atlantic. This is the most work-related fun I've had in a while. Eventually I look over to find Les standing right next to me. I raise an eyebrow.

"I've been here for at least 15 minutes."

A reminder that Les is both brilliant and deadly.

"I want you to know how proud the Leadership Core is of your work in Atlanta. Bobby is especially proud. Fucker reads all of your reports every week, grinning." Les looks over, grinning. I'm grinning too. Atlanta leadership is over the moon with the money we're making.

"Thank you."

Les nods. "Keep it up. I want to hear more from you. I rarely do. Stop allowing Danny to filter your ideas up. It's not that he isn't a good XO or that he doesn't give you credit for your ideas, but I want to hear from **you**. I'm impressed by what I see and hear. I'm finally starting to feel I know you."

I nod, smiling. I allow people to serve as my mouthpieces sometimes because it's easier to be the quiet guy.

My boss is getting to know me. He and my cousin are proud of me. I'll get out there. I'll fight to be seen and heard.

* * *

**Diego's POV—Tuesday**

Me and Steph Plum? Cool. Completely. Today we shredded my ideas. I thought I was good, but Pat and Jorge were killing me. Then Steph and Les would deliver the final blows before we started the rebuild. I know the CO is a smart woman, I've seen it over the past three months, but watching her in person? I've never actually seen her work in person and it's clear she's a strategic thinker. She and Les, and Manny to a lesser extent, can nearly read each other's minds. She'd start on a tangent, Les would follow her, and the next thing I know, they've got a secondary offering building off my first one.

Crafty. It's the only word I can think of for her.

I realize that Miami isn't ready for her and I call Armando and Thomas for a quick chat.

"Yo!"

"Yo!" they reply

"Sit. Lemme rap." Lemme rap? NYC has rubbed off. I give them the lowdown on the CO. There's silence on the other end.

"Diego, honestly, I came to that realization a few weeks ago," Mando replies, tiredly. "I like her. The time I spend talking to her is the best part of my week, but you're right. The men will drive her insane." I can imagine Mando rubbing his temples now.

I feel for my XO. He's a good man but he relies on reasoning when he should stuff that and implement thrashings. He's not weak. Shit, I respect the hell out of him and it's **hard** to earn my respect. He's taught me how to be an XO, how to lead men. I just have a tendency to thrash first, reason second. Armando reasons first, gets fed up then commences thrashings. So he's the kind of man who works best when there's a buffer between him and the men. I know they're driving him insane right now. We have too many strong individuals in our office who don't know their place. I'm Mando's buffer, because most of the prize assholes in the office report to me, so I know he's getting it without me there to run interference.

"What do we do?" I ask.

"Well, let us tell you about the latest in Housekeepers' War."

"The what?" The guys tell me what's going on and I'm stunned and amused. Good for the ladies. Mando's attempt failed and we couldn't figure out why. Their attempt is going gangbusters.

"Who's there now?"

Chuckles. "Lucia. The beat down Deuce and Mario gave Antonio and Nacho did the trick. Lucia's been getting everything she's asked for and it's making a difference. Now that the men see how the housekeeper is accustomed to being treated, they're willing to do it. Plus, they're seeing that the standard diet isn't bad. They're losing weight, although we're short on bathrooms."

I laugh my ass off. Finally! The ladies solved the problem. We couldn't figure out how to do it.

"I realize that I'm part of the problem. Maria had no other support. She's a widow, no kids. Lucia, my wife and my mother have all chewed bits of my ass away. We left her at the mercy of the men and the other ladies exacted tough revenge for it."

I sit back and nod. I feel ashamed. He's right. We should have run interference for Maria. The poor woman was overrun in the middle of her grief. Nothing so clear as hindsight.

We chat a bit longer before I hang up and see Les looking at me. He sits, grim.

"Housekeepers' war taking its toll?" I nod. "Update me." I tell him everything I was just told. Les looks furious, but amused. We sit quietly.

"Still interested in being an XO?" he asks, looking out into the yard.

"Yes, sir," I reply.

"How would you resolve this?"

I think for a moment. "Two problems in that office. One: too many strong personalities that have forgotten their place. Fire them and commence thrashings for everyone else. Two: No housekeeper for a while, until they truly get the point. Send Maria to San Antonio."

Les is quiet and he sits back. Finally, he speaks. "Being an XO is more than what you see. It's about managing the unseen. Managing the unanticipated. Managing the unexpected. Keeping the men in line. Ensuring that the men both love and fear you. Is that Armando?"

I think. "Right now? No."

"Why?"

"He can't manage the men."

"Why?"

"Too much mercy in him. A tendency to reason with the men first, then thrash."

Les looks at me sardonically. "Nice answer. Now give me the truthful one."

I consider what I need to say. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Armando is not a bad manager. He manages everything else you discussed. Mando's tendency is that he reasons and explains first, then beats the shit out of them. They don't **fear** him like they should. They fear him, but not enough. His other problem is he's influenced by an outside source, namely his family. The man is henpecked. I think he would've fired Antonio years ago if not for the anger from his family. If he fired Antonio, he'd eliminate 50% of his problems."

"So he's made business decisions personal?"

"Yes, sir. That one, at least."

Les is quiet. "OK, I'll think on that. Meanwhile, I want you to know how proud the Leadership Core is of you and your work in NYC."

I blink and allow myself a small smile. I nearly killed myself trying to bring it back from the brink.

"The CO promised that you would lead the list of candidates for leadership positions." I nod. "You're at the top of the list. We're watching your performance in Miami very carefully. Your NYC performance has impressed us all."

I'm grinning. Best call I ever took.

I need to apologize to the CO for telling her to fuck off on that first call. I hope that doesn't bite me in the ass.


	57. Nightmare?

**A/N: I warned you.**

* * *

**Chapter 57: Nightmare?**

**Steph's POV**

I'm exhausted. Les and I have been talking quietly about Miami and the situation there. Les doesn't think we should fire Armando but he does want to know what's really going on.

"My information about Armando is all over the place, Les."

Les sighs. "Mine too, Beautiful, which is why I don't want to fire him. I think something else is going on, especially since both of us have our instincts ringing on Miami. I'm headed straight there from here, to pick up Shane and thrash Antonio."

"What did he do? Wait, was he the one with the petition about Ella?"

"Yup."

I commit that name to memory. I'm going to punish him too. I start thinking of what I can do.

Les eventually leaves and I get comfortable in my bed. I'm half asleep, dreaming of Ranger, when the alarm sounds.

My bedroom door bursts open and Manny and Chase run in, guns drawn. I roll out of the bed, grabbing my Glock as I hit the floor. Chase and Manny immediately cover me and Manny's on the phone to Trenton.

"What happened?"

"Intruder," Chase whispers.

I hear the yells downstairs and eventually a "Shit, Santos! You know me! Let me go."

Joe.

I stand up, shaking off Chase. "I know that voice. I know that person. Let me go before Les kills him." Manny's standing and moving toward the door and he motions for me to follow him. Chase takes the rear and we all troop downstairs.

Joe is spread eagle on the ground with four guns pointed directly at him. Les's gun is at his temple and Les's knee is in his back. Even Jorge looks ready to kill, which amuses me for some reason.

"Stand down." No one moves. "Les," I sigh. Les's jaw clenches but he finally moves off Joe. The moment he does, the guys move the guns to their sides.

"How did you find this place?" Les asks coldly.

Joe snorts. "Is it supposed to be a secret? Burg information chain." He looks over at me and smile. "Looking good, Cupcake."

I smile and move forward. "Nice to see you're still alive. How'd you get in?"

"Picked the lock."

Joe pulls me to him and hugs me tight. I hear quietly disgusted noises behind me and flip the guys off. "What brings you here?"

Joe pulls his face away and looks down at me. I've missed those whiskey brown eyes. "My guy is nearby. No idea why but I thought I'd take a moment to look for you."

"Were you followed here?" Ranger thought he was being followed. The idea that Joe might have been followed makes me nervous.

"Nah. Need to talk to you." Joe looks serious. I nod and pull him upstairs with me. The guys look unhappy. We walk into my bedroom and sit on the bed.

"How are you doing, Cupcake? I heard about the job."

"Thanks. Not bad. I enjoy the work."

"Catch any bad guys lately?" He smiles and tugs a curl.

"Nah. I can't until I finish training. I'm ready to get back out there."

"I'm glad. Steph, I'm proud of you for doing this. I think it's great. Everyone thinks it's great."

"Really?" I smile in spite of myself. "I thought the bookie would open a book just to record how long it took for me to pass RangeMan training."

Joe laughs. "I shouldn't laugh. It's not funny." We look at each other and laugh. "Well, I'm glad. How long till you pass training?"

"Maybe a month or two. Why? Trying to figure out when to invest in Maalox?"

"Something like that." He smiles. "And if I give Carl and Big Dog the wrong date, I can help them lose a lot of money." I flop back onto the pillow in a laugh. Joe stretches out on the bed next to me. "I'd try to make a move here, but I get the feeling Santos isn't above breaking the door down to put a bullet in me."

"Safe assumption to make." I giggle and Joe pulls me close and kicks off his shoes.

"Cupcake?"

"Hmm?" Joe smells of aftershave and cologne. Familiar smells. I smile and cuddle closer. I've missed Joe.

"I've missed you, Cupcake." I smile. "I can't wait for this case to be over."

"Why?"

"I'm thinking of transferring to the FBI. I mean, I love Trenton and I love working there, but being in the FBI would give me a chance to really fight crime. Besides, you're ready to leave the Burg now, aren't you?"

I think about it and nod. Yes, working at RangeMan, I've enjoyed not being in the 'Burg. I've enjoyed doing what I want, when I want.

"I think it's time for both of us to leave Trenton. I mean, why are we there? Family? That's not enough of a reason to be miserable for the rest of our lives. Trenton will always be there. Family will always be there. We can leave and come home whenever we're ready."

I smile. I like the sound of that and I think I'm ready for that too.

A 1000W smile floats across my conscious and I squelch the thought. He's offering nothing. I'm his? What does that mean? Joe's proposing to uproot us far away from the 'Burg and its gossip and I'm ready for that.

"Where would we go?"

"Dunno. Where do you want to go?"

"Newark?"

Joe chuckles. I feel the reverb in his chest. "Not far enough away. I'm thinking DC or Miami. You'd like Miami."

"I've been." I feel the question. "For work. I loved it. Warm weather, gorgeous area. I could still work at RangeMan—"

"Do you want to work for RangeMan, Steph?"

I look at Joe. "Why not?"

"Well, you're in charge right now because Mañoso's missing. When he returns he'll take over his company. What would you do?"

Good question. One I've been avoiding. "I dunno."

"Think about it. Have you ever thought about getting back into retail? Becoming a buyer again? Or you could bounty hunt with a different company in Miami. Hell, if Mañoso can find something for you to do, you could work at RangeMan Miami. No need to lose all the training you've gained."

I look at Joe in confusion. "You'd support me working for RangeMan?"

He nods. "Yeah. Remember Steph, I said I'd be fine with you working as a bounty hunter as long as you were trained—"

"And competent," I add coldly.

Joe nods. "Yeah. I know you, Steph. I want you to work with a partner, just as I do. Have the gun and put bullets in it. Be prepared to shoot if you need to."

We lie in silence and I'm thinking about this. "Is this really how you feel Joe? I gotta say, this sounds like a bunch of bull to me."

Joe barks a laugh. "OK, I'm thinking you'd do it until we had our kids. I mean, at that point, it would have to stop. Our kids would need a mom."

"Does that mean you're going to retire from the FBI?"

Joe looks at me in confusion. "No. Why would I?"

"Because being an FBI agent puts you in danger, just as being a bounty hunter puts me in danger. If I have to retire, why don't you?"

"Because I'm trained and prepared, Steph. I'm investigating crimes and hauling people to jail. I'm a part of the system. You aren't. I do my job safely."

"So this training I'm getting . . ."

"Is great because it'll keep you alive and if you want to continue to bounty hunt, that's great. But once we have kids, you have a greater responsibility to them. They come first."

I don't like it but I need to consider it.

The breeze blows in and I smell Bvlgari. I ignore it. He's not here and I don't need this right now.

"Joe?"

"Hmm?"

"I still can't cook."

"Takeout, but Steph, you gotta feed kids more than peanut butter and what-the-hell-ever sandwiches." I laugh. I can hear movement outside the door. "Are they listening?"

"There's a camera in the corner of the room. Is it blinking?"

Joe stretches his head and looks. "Yes. Shit. Who's watching?"

"All of RangeMan Trenton, I'm sure."

"How do you live like this?"

"You set off the alarm. They'll watch until you're gone."

"I guess putting on a show is out of the question."

"Completely." Joe laughs and I roll over and glare at the camera. It continues to blink. I sigh and roll back into Joe's embrace. "Yeah, they aren't leaving us alone."

Joe chuckles then starts moaning. I laugh. The pounding on the door starts immediately.

"Steph!?" Les, sounding pissed.

"We're fine, Les."

"Go away, Santos! You're throwing me off." I burst into laughter and so does Joe.

"We're fine, Les." I call. I hear no movement and I smile at Joe. "This is your future. RangeMan will always be there, close by, just in case."

Joe shakes his head. "Nah, not for the rest of our lives, Steph. Like I said, I don't mind you and Ranger being friends, but there has to be an understanding. He has to understand that when we get married he has to keep his distance."

I'm quiet. "Terry?"

"Is not my girlfriend. She's my friend. That's the relationship I want you to have with Ranger. Terry and I don't share secrets. We meet on occasion and talk about neutral things. Her last vacation, Bob, the Mets. We don't discuss family. We don't discuss work. We can't. There's a line there."

"So my relationship with Ranger would be . . . ?"

Joe sighs. "I'd love it if you gave him up. Not because I think he's a bad friend but because you two have no idea of how to be just friends. There's always going to be something between you."

"So you don't trust me to be faithful?"

"You aren't faithful now." I lean back from Joe and look at him in stunned silence. He shrugs. "Look at me, in my face Steph, and tell me you've never slept with Ranger." I'm silent. Joe makes a disgusted sound. "Yeah. I've slept with no one else in the past four years. Just you. But you've had Ranger. You'd have a fit if I told you I slept with Terry but I'm supposed to ignore Ranger. That's what I mean. I assume you slept with him when we weren't together." I say nothing but Joe reads the answer on my face and sighs. "Exactly. Which is why I choose to ignore it. I ignore everything you do when we aren't together but I'm telling you now, I'd want Ranger out of our lives if we got married. I'd let Terry go. You'd have to let Ranger go."

My shoulders slump. The breeze and the Bvlgari are getting stronger so I get up and close the window. I sit back on the bed but I keep my distance from Joe.

I can't let Ranger go. I love him.

"No you don't," Joe says. He looks pissed but calm. "You don't love Ranger. You love what Ranger represents. Freedom. Options. No responsibilities. That's not Ranger. You'll never have anything with Ranger. Even now, he's not here. This would be your life, wondering where he is, wondering if he's alive. In the meantime, you're being followed by his men, your every move under surveillance." He points at the camera and I clench my jaw to avoid saying anything.

"Being under constant surveillance is not freedom. Being given a list of options to choose from means having to decide from what someone else thinks is acceptable. This is your future, Steph." Joe gets out of the bed and crouches in front of me. "I'm offering you freedom. We'll move to Miami. I'll join the FBI, you can bounty hunt or work in retail, or work for RangeMan. Retire when we start having kids or work a safer job. I'll be home every night, no more undercover, a happy home life."

Joe grins and I smile. He's right. I'd still be able to call my own shots. I could really have it all.

"Plus, no Burg." He grins. "Our parents would be thrilled. Your mother would love it. You'd be married and we would be thinking about babies at some point. Your dad would be happy you married an Italian. Your grandma would always have my ass to pinch."

I laugh. Grandma would love it. She did imply that Joe was ice cream.

Ranger was cake. Nothing beats cake. I ignore this thought.

"What do you want, Cupcake? I've told you what I want. What do you want?"

I think. "I like my job. I'm not sure how or what will change when Ranger comes back but I like working at RangeMan. It's fun."

Joe snorts and shakes his head. "Jesus, only you, Cupcake." I frown and Joe smiles. "RangeMan Trenton is a Jersey Penal stopover station. I hesitate to think of the rest of the branches."

I stare at Joe in astonishment. "You don't know the guys. Most of them are retired Special Ops veterans."

Joe smiles. "Yeah, and Hector Gutierrez? Jesus, Steph, we're still trying to put him away. Mass murderer and no one will talk."

I smile mentally. Don't mess with Hector. "Well, seems to me that Ranger does more to rehabilitate ex-felons than any politician. He gives them jobs with responsibility and no man is willing to betray him. The men are grateful to be hired and Ranger treats them right. They repay that with their loyalty."

Joe stares at me then sighs. "If you say so, Steph. OK. What else do you want? Working at RangeMan is on the table for you. Any other jobs?"

I shrug. "I just want to make it through this year doing a good job for Ranger. I'll think about what I'll do after later."

"Family?"

"I'm not ready for kids, Joe."

"When will you be ready?"

When the condom breaks and we have a massive birth control fail, that's when. I look at Joe's face and decide not to say that. "I don't know. I just know I'm not ready yet. And I'll never be domestic." I shrug. "Joe, if you're looking for me to be like your mom, you're going to be really disappointed. My idea of a meal will always be a peanut butter and olive sandwich. I'm not ready for kids and I don't know if I'll ever be. And I don't see me as a stay-at-home mom."

I sit and think for a while. Finally, I turn and look at Joe.

"I love you." He grins. "But I'll never marry you." His smile falls. "In the space of one hour you've promised me everything and taken it back just as fast. Ranger and I can be friends but he'd have to be out of my life? That contradicts, Joe. You aren't offering me options. You're offering me the same thing in a different location.

You pop up and tell me that you're willing to overlook the fact that I slept with Ranger, once I might add," Joe looks astonished, "when we broke up. Yeah, Joe. Once! Not multiple times but I'm betting the Burg said something different huh? And I'm not asking you to give Terry up. If you choose to give up a friend she's not much of a friend to you. I'd never give up Ranger, or Lester, or any of the RangeMen. You know why?"

He shakes his head.

"Because if I do that, you'll ask me to give up Lula next. Then who's next? Connie? A wife who has a woman with Mob ties as her best friend might not be great for your career but I'm not asking you to give up the many members of the Mob in your family!"

I'm on a roll now.

"And how dare you tell me what I want! The level of security in this house is something I agreed to. The guys told me what **they** wanted to install and I accepted it after we discussed it. I have a partner who I love. I'm not giving up Hector!"

Joe's face turns white, an interesting look on an Italian.

"And let's talk about my job. I can work until we have kids? Thanks!" I snarl. "Really appreciate your willingness to allow me to work. Meanwhile, you get to continue to work as a cop. Thanks for the double standard! My job is just a hobby but you do important work, so of course I can quit! You didn't even think to offer me a real choice or simply ask me what I want! I can work as a bounty hunter until we have kids. Then maybe I can work in retail. Or maybe Ranger can find me something to do at RangeMan," I say sarcastically.

"Ranger represents no responsibilities? Ranger has major responsibilities! He's responsible for the livelihoods of over 500 men. He takes that responsibility seriously and so do I! That's why the guys are here now. This is a leadership retreat. We aren't just at the shore for fun in the sun!

You know, the difference between you and Ranger is that Ranger always tries to give me a choice. I might not like his suggestions so we try to negotiate. We try to come to an agreement. You just offered me the same thing I've always known you wanted, the same list of options **YOU** find acceptable, but in Miami. Kids, no bounty hunting, and let see, takeout's OK until we have kids. Thanks! Tell me, Joe, how does your life change if we get married?"

Joe is silent and stunned. "Well, I get to lay off the Maalox . . . " he mutters. "Jesus, Cupcake, you've never told me what you want. What **do** you want?"

"Tell me, Joe, is that what you want?"

Joe shrugs. "Not really."

"Then why tell me that?"

He's quiet. "Fine. What do I want? Marriage. I want a family. I want kids. I want a wife who can make more than a peanut butter and olive sandwich. I want a woman who doesn't work in a dangerous field, but if she chooses to, she should be trained and ready. I would prefer my wife work inside the law."

"I work inside the law. Bounty hunters are not illegal and I'm in training."

"Yeah, but the past four years tell me you aren't good at it and how long would you continue to work at RangeMan standards without them around to hound you about it? I'd rather you did something else. My worst nightmare involves you chasing a skip at 8 months pregnant. Tell me, Steph, what would you do if you were 8 months pregnant? What would your job be?"

I'm quiet. Joe snorts. "Exactly my point. I'm thinking long-term. I'm trying to figure out what you'd do. You could be a stay-at-home mom, you could work somewhere else, but no RangeMan. I'm going to put my foot down on that one. I know I said I'd be OK with it, but really, I'm not. You slept with Ranger. I'll never trust the two of you together. If I told you I slept with Terry, would you trust me with her?"

I'm quiet. I see this clearly. This is goodbye. "Yes," I reply. Joe looks surprised. "I would trust you with her but I wouldn't like it. Know why I'd trust you?" He shakes his head. "Because I assume you'd take your vows seriously, just like I would. I wouldn't cheat on you with Ranger. I've never cheated on you with Ranger."

I can feel a set of arms around me and the smell of Bvlgari is strong. I turn, expecting to see Ranger, but no one's there. I smile and turn around. Joe's looking at me, smiling sadly.

"It's over, isn't it?"

I nod. "Yeah. It's over." I love Ranger. I accept that. The arms squeeze tighter and my doodah responds. I miss him. I love him. I love Joe but I could give Joe up. I would never let go of Ranger. Never.

Joe moves forward and hugs me. We stand there for a while before Joe tugs my curl and smiles. "I love you, Steph."

"I love you too, Joe. Goodbye."

Joe begins to fade and I stare in amazement. "Joe?" What the hell!? "Joe?" I start calling his name as he fades, waving at me. I hear yelling from the other side of the door.

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"Beautiful?" Les. "Beautiful? Beautiful, you gotta wake up….Beautiful? Steph, baby, wake up!"

I sit up in the bed with a start. I'm breathing hard and all the guys are in the room. Les and Manny are holding me, Diego and Jorge are looking out of windows and Chase enters with two glasses of water. I feel the tears on my cheeks.

Everyone has a gun in hand except Chase. Chase's gun is in its holster. I look over at the camera. Light blinking. I look at Les.

"Was Joe here?" I ask, holding a hand to my chest.

"No, of course not, Steph," Les says, looking confused.

"Oh," I flop back on the pillows. Chase sits on the bed next to me.

"Here, Steph. Drink the water." I shake my head and he smiles. "I think you might need it. Please. I went all the way to kitchen for it."

"Kitchen's not that far away," I reply. I drink the water and give him a thank you hug.

"It is when you really want to go beat up the bully scaring the boss," Chase replies. Every man turns to me and smiles.

"Beautiful, why did you think Morelli was here?" Les asks. I watch as he strips down to his boxers and motions for Manny to move. He climbs in the bed with me and pulls me closer. I snuggle in his embrace. Again, Les is doing a good job of comforting me but I don't smell Bvlgari so he's falling short.

"Nightmare."

"Describe," Manny says, settling in the chair across from the bed. Chase is laying on my other side and Jorge stretches out across the foot of the bed. Pat and Diego are standing and staring at me intently. I look at the camera. It's one thing to tell Les. Another to spill my guts to all of RMTrenton and all the strategists.

Les sees my face and picks up his phone. He texts something and starts rubbing my back. His phone beeps two minutes later and we check the camera. No blinking. Les looks at the room. "Out." The guys leave.

"OK Beautiful, tell me what happened," Les says softly. I start crying and I tell him the entire nightmare, as much of it as I remember. I keep talking until I can't.

I fall asleep in Les's embrace.

* * *

**Les's POV**

I feel physically sick. Beautiful and Morelli? I literally want to vomit. At least she mentally gave him up. I climb out of the bed and tip toe out. The guys are in the living room, concerned. They look at me as I walk in.

"OK. . . Chase, are you sure that meat was fresh?"

Chase's eyes widen. "Absolutely sure. I mean, it was pink, smelled fresh, no one else got sick, right? No one else is having horrible nightmares about exes, right?"

Heads shake. True.

"Then what in the hell brought that on?"

They shrug. Women are a mystery. No fucking idea here, sir.

I pull my phone, and send a text (ywiNOTfine. Dreaming of cop. Marriage, babies, PB&olives, crying. HELP!). I give him 2 minutes to answer that one. I head to Steph's room and wait. She's sound asleep, looking peaceful.

_RINGGG_. 90 seconds.

"Please tell me that was the world's worst joke."

"Nope."

"Tell me everything."

I recount the entire fucked up nightmare. Even saying some of those things makes me sick. Silence then "OK, pop psychology tells me that she's made the mental break with him, then. That was a way of explaining why shouldn't choose him then letting him go in her mind."

"Meaning?"

I can feel Ranger's smile from here. It's warm. You feel happy. "She's mine. She's starting to accept it. She's standing by her choice."

"What should we do?"

"Never mention that to me again." _Click_.

* * *

**A/N: I got a PM about Joe and Steph riding into the sunset. I warned you…..but in the end, even ****I**** couldn't write it! I'm sure if I try harder I could…..anyone want me to try?**

**FYI: This entire chapter is a throwaway. I literally wrote it in about 3 hours, after I got the PM today. :D you can ignore all of it. None of it happens in the timeline. And no, it was not beta'd.**

**Sorry to mess with your adrenals like this!**


	58. Strategists Week at the Beach, Part II

**A/N: After considering the feedback from the previous chapter, I've decided to keep it! **** It doesn't affect the upcoming storyline and it does reinforce the idea that Steph truly ****has ****made her choice. I've given the chapter a new title. Thanks!**

**Also, tomorrow is my birthday, so two side stories and a special treat: I'll take one-shot requests. Fill out the form on my profile and I'll use the random number generator to pick a winner! Yay!**

* * *

**Chapter 58 Strategists Week at the Beach, Part II**

**Patrick's POV—Wednesday**

Morning activity? Amusement park. The CO ate cotton candy and rode the Ferris wheel all morning. She was a happy lady. Chase was amused. It was his idea and it was a last minute one, but she grinned all morning. We've been trying to think of something, besides flowers, to say 'Thank you' but we're stuck. Each man is hoping inspiration hits soon.

This afternoon, it was my turn. Mark and I went over my offerings with a fine-tooth comb before I left, so I know they're in good shape.

Wrong. The guys are vicious. I honestly think they enjoyed it. Jorge, Manny and Chase tore holes through my proposals and the carcasses were obliterated by the CO. Les was laughing his ass off.

"Pat, you look stunned," he said, smiling.

Hell, I was. I've never had my ideas chewed like that and the guys were completely professional (if a little gleeful) doing it. I can see that these 'rap sessions' are going to be good for us. Boston is a financial town, and I think more about client service offerings than anything else. The active stuff isn't major bank for us, so our client services stuff has to be killer. The guys tore my ideas apart and repackaged them even better.

I can see I need to develop a relationship with Jorge. The man is a former banker. He knows how his former colleagues think and he's able to package an idea in a way designed to appeal to them. Chase is also a good guy to talk to about this, better than I expected. There are a lot of financial institutions in Charlotte and Atlanta, and he's getting his feet wet in this world. He's had to think about this for the first time and, as a result, he has new, fresh ideas. Yeah, my fellow strategists are a good source of support and ideas.

I kick back in the backyard and nurse a beer. Another day and a half with my colleagues to go and I will miss doing this in person. I wish I had known about the NYC rap session. I'd have busted my ass to get there. I look up and Lester is standing in front of me. How does he do it?

"Practice," he says, sitting down. I chuckle. Blank face on vacation. He passes me another beer and we stare into the trees.

"Finding anything?" he asks.

"Sir?"

"In your attempts to dig for your XO? Are you finding anything?"

I know I've gone pale. How in the hell . . . then again, it's Lester. I should expect it.

"That's not really what we're up to, sir."

Les chuckles mirthlessly. "You think I'm not aware of that, Pat? Bobby and I read your reports with a fine-tooth comb. You and Rodney are attempting to save your own skins after you were warned that you're on the ice with him. That's clear. So what are you really searching for and are you finding it?"

I swallow hard. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"We're not digging for anything to use against the CO. We were attempting to see if she really had won over NYC and Atlanta. We're prepared to stand with the CO when she comes to visit us. It's clear she has power, and we don't want to be left out the loop because Mark's being an ass."

"And if she had not won over NYC and Atlanta? What then?" A long silence, then, "When did you begin to believe the Leadership Core was comprised of fools, Pat?"

My knees feel shaky. This isn't going to be good.

"Why she's been elevated is not your concern. She was. She's your boss. You follow her orders. You don't get to assess her. She assesses you. We, the Leadership Core, assess her. That's the correct order of things, yes?"

"Yes, sir," I whisper.

There's silence, then, "Why do I get the feeling you're running a psyop in your office? Explain." I consider how best to keep my limbs intact. "If you tell the truth, you don't have to worry about your limbs, Pat."

"Sir, we're running a shadow command, sir."

"Explain."

"We've told the men to form their own opinions of the CO. No one is to approach the XO about her until Rod and I are certain Mark has his shit straight about her."

The silence seems to last forever. "And?"

"No, sir."

"Explain."

I tell Lester what we've been up to in Boston. He's absolutely furious but calm.

"I'm glad you didn't attempt to lie to me. I knew. The CO knows. Mark is hanging himself and the CO is supplying plenty of rope. After these past few days with her, do you think she's a stupid woman?"

"No, sir. I'd say cunning and crafty would be the right adjectives for her."

Les nods. "Exactly." He stands and stretches. "I've long thought you were the most innovative strategist in the company, behind myself of course," he smirks, "and considering the caliber of men holding the title, that's saying something. But this shakes my faith in you, Pat, and I don't like questioning my men."

I'm staring at the empty bottle in my hands. I knew that plan was going to backfire on us.

"Yes, you did, but you still hoped it would work out." Les sighs and shakes his head. "I'm proud of the work you're doing in Boston. It's solid and sustainable. But Boston's attitude toward the CO? You're questioning my judgment and I don't like that."

I swallow hard and nod.

"You will not mention this conversation to anyone. You certainly will not mention it to your XO. And you will pray the CO decides to rescue you. You are questioning her judgment also. She decides your fate."

Les walks off and I consider his words. I know a lot about the CO but not how she might handle this situation. I realize that following my XO to the cliff might mean getting tossed with him. Rodney and I are in waist-deep doody and I can't even warn him to watch out.

* * *

**Steph's POV—Thursday**

I'm lying in the bed, wondering what this morning's activity will be, when I hear a knock at the door. 0700. No no no! 7 a.m.! 7 a.m.!

"Steph?" Les.

"Come in."

Les walks in and hops on the bed with me. We lie there, staring at the ceiling.

"What do you think I should do?" I ask.

Les sighs. "I told you that it's not your job to get along with him. It's his job to get along with you."

I know that, Les. "There's something else going on there, Les. I know it."

"How's he been lately?"

"Cooperative. He participates in the XO calls now. He isn't a silent force of disapproval. Now that he appears to be alone in his rebellion against me, it's almost as if he's decided to switch tactics and start trying to learn more about me."

"Intelligence gathering."

"Yeah. Hal's nervous. He doesn't like the randomness of this 'about-face'. I trust Hal's instincts with people, in addition to my own."

Hal is an unhappy man after each XO call. He is quick to admit he doesn't have my instincts, but his knowledge of 'the target' suggests a problem. Hal's delicate phrasing amuses me. It's clear he's trying not to bad-mouth Mark, but he wants answers. He still thinks of Mark as a threat to his 'Sis'. Hal distrusts first; I trust first.

Les takes my hand and squeezes. "You know that he's not in the country right?"

"Right," I say suspiciously. I turn on my side and face Les.

"So what I'm about to say is technically impossible, right?"

My eyes widen. "Right . . ."

"He made a quick stopover to the Boston office in April. Right after you sent the recording of your call?" Les's eyebrows lift and my eyes widen. I remember. "He handed Mark his ass. Told him that if you called us with one more problem it would be a tossup on who got his body first, me, Hector or him." My mouth drops. "Rod and Pat were also warned. They've been trying to save Mark by forcing him to shut up and work with you. They're also running a shadow command in the office. But when Maria dropped that 'disinformation' on them, Mark got nervous. Hence . . . "

"The current situation," I finish grimly.

"Right."

Now I'm furious. Mark's a dead man.

At 8 a.m. (Ha!), we meet for the morning activity. Beach volleyball seems to be the winner, as the guys point out that no one in the house has had any real exercise for three days. So we head out to the beach and play. I'm actually enjoying it. Finally, I collapse on the sand, slather myself in sunblock, and snooze for a bit. I'm nudged awake after 30 minutes to flip over (Les covers my back in sunblock) and I toast the other side.

This is the life.

Chase and Pat serve up another tasty meal (I'm going to miss these guys when they leave. I hope the liaisons can cook) and we head to the living room. Today is Manny's turn and, just as we've done in the past four days, we pick his ideas apart and look for ways to strengthen them. Half the time, Les and I don't really say anything. We just sit back and watch the guys interact.

This is great. This is NYC redux. This is what we want to see with the strategists. They need to learn to work together as a team and bounce ideas off each other. If they're supposed to be the idea guys, they need to trust each other.

After dinner, I head out to the beach and sit for a while. The sun is finally going down and it's quiet. I'm joined by Patrick. He doesn't say anything, just sits silently. I'm unsure of what to do with him and Rod. I decide I need more information to make a decision. My spidey senses are going haywire that there's more to this ridiculous situation than I'm being told.

"Tell me about Mark."

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead."

Pat sighs. "I've worked at Boston for five years. Mark? Mark's loved. The men regard him the way the Trenton men regard Hal, as far as we know. Under normal circumstances, Mark is calm, cool, and deliberate. He's not a hot-head. He's known for his strategic thinking and calm assessments. He doesn't leap to conclusions. It's why Rod and I can't understand what's going on in his head right now."

I look over at him. Pat meets my eyes then drops his.

"You have a good idea. Level with me."

Pat blows out a breath. "Two things. One, Mark wants to be a partner badly. He saw the financials. He sees it as the final rung in his ascent at RangeMan. He's saved his money for years to prepare to buy in when it was offered to him." I nod. "Two, he worships Ranger. I mean, whatever Ranger says goes. China has Chairman Mao's little red book. RMBoston has 'Quotations from Ranger'. It's at that level, an almost soul-deep worship."

I feel like Scooby-Doo. Er?

"Then why the war against me?"

"Because he sees you as unprepared to protect Ranger's interests. Unskilled. Not serious about it. The Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories tell us you're skilled at finding the man, but you were or are unskilled at apprehension and you did nothing, in all that time, to get any better. You're a good detective but you caused more drama trying to apprehend than necessary. He's worried that you'll wreak more havoc trying to actively run Ranger's company than if you'd left well-enough alone."

I cringe. So, the Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories are part of the problem. My reputation for blowing things up and causing mayhem is causing Mark to wonder if I'm any good. That's a legitimate worry, especially since I'm in charge. It's the reason I'm so careful now.

"The moment Mark heard Ranger was starting this company, he resigned his commission in the military to join Ranger. He's been the good and faithful soldier all these years and he's concerned about this decision. It's not Mark's nature to question Ranger, but this is the first time in years he's ever wondered if Ranger could be wrong. It's like watching your commanding officer bring in a man from another platoon known for success but also known for constantly being under threat of court martial. Yeah, he's brilliant, but the fallout is ridiculous. RangeMan is a company that prides itself on being low-key and under the radar. You are anything but. He's worried about the hit to the reputation."

Ouch. Perhaps I shouldn't have given Pat leave to speak freely. This has a pillowcase feel to it.

"Then we found out that you were appointed by Lester, Tank, and Bobby and he got hopeful. This wasn't Ranger's move; at least, it didn't appear to be his idea initially. It was the rest of Leadership Core and he decided to take a wait and see approach. Maybe there was a reason Ranger agreed to it that he didn't understand yet. So we kept an ear to the ground and we started hearing good things. In the meantime, Mark acknowledged that he'd made a major mistake. That even if he didn't understand why, there was no reason he couldn't help you. So we started reaching out, quietly, trying to gauge whether or not you'd turn to us if you needed help."

I think about what he's said. I don't like it but I can acknowledge it. "You and Rodney?"

Pat blows out a breath. "We don't know you so we don't have anything to tell the men to counter Mark's impression. Again, deeply respected in Boston, so the men tend to believe him and whatever he says. That's why we had to tell him to shut up but even doing that, all we're left with is the Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories, which don't do you a lot of favors." Pat leans back on his forearms and stares out into the water.

"We know and understand that, at a basic level, the military response to this situation is 'Mouth shut, follow orders'. But even in the military, men talk. They assess their leadership, from the Commander-in-Chief on down. We question their competency. We wonder at their motives, but at the end of the day, we follow orders. Reputation in the military is just as important as in the civilian world. The feeling in the Boston office is that we have a civvie in charge, and a largely incompetent one at that."

I turn and look at Pat, stunned. He grimaces but nods.

"Like I said, you're largely unknown as CO of RangeMan. You're known as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, 100% success rate but explosions, dead bodies, and mayhem follow you like stench on a corpse, no pun intended. It's why we've been digging through the company trying to find out more about you. To combat that impression. To give a more nuanced view. To help the men understand that who you were as a solo BEA is not who you are as the head of RangeMan. They need to know something positive about you, other than that Leadership Core appointed you."

"Should it matter? Leadership Core appointed me."

Pat looks at me. "Should it matter? No. Does it matter? Yes. The reality of the situation is that it's easier to follow someone when you respect them. If you don't respect your leadership then you constantly question and second-guess them. You wonder if you'll end up court-martialed. You wonder if you'll end up dead. It's the reason we all follow Ranger without hesitation. Ranger's reputation is sterling. We know who he is as a leader and a man. Every man would follow him on a death march through the Sahara."

"But you're questioning him now."

Pat nods. "And it's uncomfortable. It's not an ideal situation. For me and Rod, it's hell. We have two levels of management we respect deeply and they aren't in agreement. Common sense says with side with Leadership Core. Reality is we see them rarely. Mark's every day. We love the sergeant. We obey the major."

Tough spot.

I lean back and stare at the water. "And? You've had a week to watch me. I assume you've come up with something."

Pat turns to me. "Cunning. Crafty. Complex. Fun. Honest. Hard-working and concerned about the men. I hate to use the word competent—"

"You've already called me incompetent. Please, feel free." It'll be nice to hear it for once.

Pat cringes. "OK, yeah. Competent. You've done things that made us all shake our heads. Case in point? Jorge. You gave Javi everything he wanted **and** approved him hiring someone directly into management from the outside. **No** one understood those moves and yet, after watching the man for a week, it was fuckin' brilliant. He's brilliant. OK, so he's still uncomfortable with a gun. We can teach him that. We can't teach him how to put together fee schedules or adequately price a new offering or even how to completely rip **my** ideas to shreds. He's taught us that, well, how to do it better. It was the right move and yet it was completely unexpected."

I nod. I let Javi do what he felt was right. He made a decision and was ready to stand behind it. It turned out to be the right decision. I can see Lester and Manny lurking on the boardwalk.

"So I finally have something to go back to the men with and say, 'I've seen the CO in action, as head of RangeMan, and **this** is who she is', and while it doesn't erase the Bombshell Bounty Hunter stories, it gives the men a new lens to look at you through."

I stare at the shore for a while before finally saying what I really think.

"Here's what I know, Pat. What you've said to me sounds good on the surface. It sounds good on its face. But it's a load of steaming hot bullshit and I've learned to recognize it for what it is."

Pat starts and looks at me. He looks stunned. Good. Time to hit him with both barrels.

"What you've given me is a situation where I can't win. It's not my job to _earn_ Boston's respect. The respect should automatically be given to me because I hold the title. How would I _earn_ Boston's respect? Do you have a list of things for me to do, a checklist that you're ticking off? Do I earn your respect after I manage all those items? Some of them? One or two of them? You can't please all of the people all of the time—and when it comes to _earning_ respect, you can't even know what all of the people think you need to do. That's why respect is given, not earned. It's my job to avoid earning your _disrespect_, your _distrust_. Do you understand the difference?"

I look over and Manny's gone. Les is leaning on the railing, smiling. I look at Pat, but I don't wait for him to respond.

"I respect every man in this company. I haven't had to meet each one to extend them that courtesy. I respect their feelings, their rights, their existence and I work hard to ensure they have everything they need to do their jobs. Every other office, so far, has given me their respect, and I honor it by giving them mine and trying not to give them a reason to distrust me. That's how respect is maintained. If I fail to respect the men, if I constantly undermine them or make them feel incompetent at their jobs, then they fail to respect me. That's how disrespect and distrust is earned.

That's why Trenton, NYC, and Atlanta all think I'm great. Even in Trenton, site of all my explosions, dead bodies and accidents, the men respect me. You'd think they'd hate me for all that I've put them through but they don't. There's mutual respect there because I'm willing to put myself at risk for them just as they're willing to do the same for me. Even if they didn't respect me, they respect the judgment of the Leadership Core and they respect the position. Miami? I know Miami has a gender problem. They don't and won't respect me because I'm a woman. But Boston? I have to _earn_ your respect? Is that the way the men would treat Mark in this position? Would he have to _earn_ respect before they would follow his orders?"

I've gotten louder and louder during this explanation. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

"Tell me, Pat, what was on your checklist for me to _earn_ your respect this week?"

Pat looks stunned. It's clear he doesn't have an answer.

"Did I pass? Do I have your respect? I guess I do because you're willing to go back to Boston and tell them I'm not as incompetent as they think." Pat cringes. "But we have an unequal relationship. I have shown you nothing but respect since you arrived. I've respected your professional ability. I haven't made **you** prove you know how to do your job. I've respected your position and your ideas and worked to make them stronger and better.

By inviting you to the beach this week, I've given you an opportunity to meet with all your colleagues face to face and learn about them. I've given you another tool to do your job better, providing what I can when I can, but you've repaid my respect by telling me I'm incompetent and that you were here to assess me. That's not your job. You're three levels too low. That belongs to Leadership Core. You know why I'm willing to rip you a new one right now?"

He shakes his head slightly.

"Because this is unfair. What if I hadn't shown myself to be someone worth respecting this week, huh? What if I had simply sunbathed on the beach and left you guys to work with Les? I would have been respecting Les's position as your boss and allowing all of you time to do your thing, something that's **never** been done in this company.

Would you have seen that as me creating an opportunity for you guys to work with your boss, together, as a group? Or would you have seen that as the CO skipping out on work to go have fun? Would you have gone back to Boston and said 'Yup, she's a disaster'? Would you have stayed silent? What would you have done? Whatever you might have done, it would have been impossible for the men to see me as anything other than a confirmed disaster."

I flop back onto my towel. I will not cry.

"I shouldn't have to go through that," I say quietly. "Even I know that in the military you respect the title and the person holding it, even if you personally think he's an idiot. Example? The President. You can hate him, hate his politics, hate everything about him but he's still the head of the military and you salute the Commander-in-Chief and follow his orders. Even in the lower levels, you follow the orders because there's a reason this person is your senior. Hal's told me that time and time again. You don't have to read his service record to know why. He has the title. He's due the respect. If you can't respect him, respect the title and carry out the orders.

That's all Leadership Core asked of the RangeMen. Respect the title and respect the woman holding it. Atlanta did that. NYC did that. Trenton does that. Miami won't because a woman holds the title. Boston? Apparently not until I prove myself. So that's a no."

I blow out a breath. Pat's staring into the water, still looking stunned.

"This is a failure of leadership. Not just Mark. You and Rod too. So without even stepping into RMBoston, the senior management has failed the management portion of the review." Pat looks over, eyes wide. "Oh yeah. You've had five months to tear me down. Now the men question not just me but the Leadership Core too. You think Ranger's going to appreciate having his judgment questioned?" Pat pales. "I know Lester doesn't and Tank and Bobby won't. I'm in the impossible situation of having to _earn_ RMBoston's respect. You expect me to dance to your tune to earn your respect and I don't like it. You may not love me but you **will** respect me. Why? Because those who want respect give respect."

I stand up and brush the sand off myself and my towel. "Come on," I tell him calmly. "Let's go back to the house. I've had enough of the beach today and I need to start thinking of ways to _earn_ the respect I should be given freely."

And with that, I march back toward the house. I hope he liked **his** pillowcase.

* * *

**Les's POV**

I have just watched the most brilliant dressing down I've ever seen. Even the ones I saw in the military don't compare to the way Beautiful led Pat right down the primrose path then beat the shit outta him. It was beautiful.

Judging from the silence on my phone, Tank and Bobby agree. That's why I sent Manny away. He didn't need to see or hear his colleague get it. He still needs to respect Pat and the Trenton men are protective of Beautiful. Manny would find it hard not to plant his fist in Pat's face if he heard what Beautiful just said. Unfortunately, it sounds as if every strategist overheard it anyway. I hear them scurrying away.

I saunter over, making it look as if I just arrived. "Hector's not a happy man. You're missing something, Beautiful." I nod at Pat, indicating he should keep walking. Pat nods, almost absent mindedly and continues on.

Steph blows out a breath. "Crap. Left the phone?" I hold it up. "Thanks, Les."

I wait until Pat's out of sight, then open my arms and hold out a hankie. I can feel Steph cry against my chest. I rub her back as she cries and when she's done, I hide a laugh. Beautiful is not a pretty crier and right now, I'm thanking God for it. This is enough to rip a man's heart out, but her inability to cry cute means I can be pissed and amused at the same time.

"Feel better?"

"No. Feel crappy. How do I win here, Les?"

I have no clue.

"Santos." Tank.

"Is that Tank?" I nod and put Tank on speaker.

"Little Girl, you OK?"

"Bomber, you OK, baby girl?"

"Yeah," she sniffs.

"Liar," Bobby says softly. "I, for one, count that as the most brilliant dressing down I've ever been witness to."

"Agreed," Tank says.

"Yeah, but it doesn't solve the problem. What do I do with Boston?"

We're all silent. Finally, Bobby speaks.

"Bomber, we've told you, you have leave to fire Mark at any time. Your judgment in the past five months has been stellar. Do what you feel is right."

I nod and Beautiful looks at me, uncertain.

"Are you going to be here next week, Bobby?"

"Oh yeah. After what I've just heard, I want to be on-site. Plus, I want to meet with the liaisons as a group too. I'm flying into Newark tomorrow morning." _Click._

I hang up and walk Beautiful back to the house. I tuck her into bed and lie with her until she falls asleep. It's been a long day. Hell, it's been a long week.

* * *

**Manny's POV**

Pat steps back into the house looking stunned. He's met by four furious faces.

"Please tell us we're wrong. Please tell us you didn't have the balls to come here this week and think you had the right to assess her." Diego is fuming.

Unfortunately for Pat, we were all on the boardwalk when Wifey ripped Pat a new asshole. Les sent me away, but I ran into Chase, Diego and Jorge on my way back to the house. Hector was calling, unhappy that Steph's personal trackers and her cell phone were not in the same place. Until they were reunited, he was not going to rest. We tried telling him that Lester was with her but since I couldn't reveal that Pat was getting his ass handed to him, the guys were determined to go ensure she was safe.

Rock, meet hard place. We fear Hector and Les equally. The guys overheard enough of Wifey's speech to want to kill him. My fist feels itchy and Pat's face looks like a good place to relieve it.

Pat sighs and sinks into a chair. We're all staring at him, fuming. I'm keeping an eye out for Les and Wifey's return, but I've warned the guys that both of them are sneaky.

"I completely understand," Pat begins, but he's cut off by an angry Diego and Jorge.

"_**Bullshit!**_" They both yell. They look at each other and Jorge cedes to Diego.

"You don't understand a motherfucking thing," Diego snarls. "If anybody in this room was the likely candidate to question that woman, it would be the Miami office. I'm the one from the office of sexist assholes, but I respect the position. I respect the woman and carry out her orders. I don't question the Leadership Core because it's not my job to second-guess their decisions. You mean to tell me Boston couldn't do the simple shit?"

Again, blunt with no filter.

"You're supposed to be the office with the XO who worships Ranger and you couldn't stop your XO from questioning the leadership?" Chases asks, amazed.

"I did. We did. We—"

"Bullshit," I reply calmly. "You allowed your XO to beat her down for weeks before you put a stop to it. Now you're in the position of hoping she saves your ass. You deserve everything you get."

Pat looks at all of us sadly. He knows we're right. He looks at Jorge.

"Don't look at me, fucker." Pat cringes. "I might not be military but even in corporate, you don't beat down the management. You got problems with the boss? You take it to HR. In this company, Stephanie Plum is your HR, your next step up. You should've had the balls to call her and say, 'Ma'am, we have a problem'. Document it and call it in, if not to her, then to Leadership Core. Now you've created an even bigger problem for yourselves." Jorge is looking at Pat coldly.

I spot Les and Wifey coming up the driveway. "They're back." The phone rings and I answer it.

"Hello?"

"_She approaching the house?_" Hector.

"_Yes. She's with Lester._"

"_Remind her of the agreement."_ _Click._

Les and Steph step in. We've all composed ourselves and Diego has grabbed beer. Wifey nods and heads up to her bedroom.

"CO?" She turns. "CIO said to remind you of the agreement." Wifey nods and continues up, followed by Les. Neither returns. We all sit and look at Pat, who looks as close to crying as a man will allow himself to get in the presence of other men.

I blow a breath. "Your job is to go back to Boston and salvage her reputation. Get the men to worship her. Ensure they understand that Leadership is to be obeyed, regardless of whether or not they understand or agree with the orders."

Pat nods. "We've been doing that—"

"No," Diego says, "you've still undermined her. You allowed Mark to beat her down with no reprisals then you call yourself putting a stop to it. How did you put a stop to it?"

"We told him to shut up," Pat says, wearily. "Work with her. Pull his ass back from the chopping block."

"In other words, you let the status quo stand?" Chase asks.

Pat thinks about it then slowly nods. He looks at Diego. "Why do you get to be so high and mighty about this? Your office is no fan of the CO. Where do you get off lecturing me?"

"Because I haven't beat the leadership down. My men will disrespect her for her gender, not her leadership skills. Not her competency. They will disrespect her for the simple fact that she can't piss standing up."

We all blink at Diego, then snigger, then laugh. Even Pat. Diego is blunt, but occasionally he's good to cut the tension.

"So no, we aren't in the same position. There are men in that office that respect the CO as they should and will carry out her orders as they should. And there are men in that office who will question her and attempt to make her dance to their tune. And when that happens, Armando, Thomas, and I are prepared to beat the shit outta them. No questions. No hesitation."

We nod. That's the correct way of handling this.

"You've contributed to the idea that she should be questioned. I haven't, and when she visits Miami I won't stand for it. I've worked with her. I respect her abilities, her juice, but even if I had not, she's still the CO. Leadership Core appointed her. Even Armando came back from the initial announcement in Trenton understanding that, although the men would have a problem, she was still in charge. He didn't step to Ranger questioning whether or not she should be the leader and he didn't bring that up when he spoke to Thomas or me. His only concern was that the men would disrespect her for her past when she visited and he didn't want to be on the hook for that."

Diego sits back in his chair and takes a long sip of beer. "Since then, we've decided that the men will see a steady diet of thrashings, just as Manny and I handed them out in NYC, to remind them that they aren't the CO. She is. The men got a steady diet of ass whoopings until they understood that Javi was to be respected. They needed to be reminded of their place. That's what will happen and is happening in Miami."

Again, we nod. That's the correct way of handling this.

Pat tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling. "I'm a dead man walking."

And you've earned it.

* * *

**Jorge's POV—Friday Morning**

I'm packed up and ready to make the trip back to NYC. Javi was right. This was a great week and it's made even better by the fact that I get to pick up Annalise on my way in. I can't think of a way this could be better.

"Jorge."

Shit. Spoke too soon. Lester smirks. "Work on your face. Get it airtight." He looks at my hands. "And stop picking your cuticles."

_Shit!_ How did he know? "Yes, sir."

He chuckles and motions for me to walk with him. "How are you settling into NYC?"

Javi told me never to attempt to anticipate Les's questions. Simply answer what I'm asked. "Very well, I think. I understand the job and I'm working on the standards."

"So I hear." He smirks. "Never stayed strapped in Tremont?"

I laugh. "No, sir. Parents woulda had my ass if they saw a gun."

He nods, smiling. We stop at the end of the driveway and he turns to face me. "I want you to work on getting up to the standards faster." I nod and make a mental note to buy a treadmill. "I'm incredibly impressed by you. Newest strategist and the one making the most bank." I blink and smile. I can't help it. Les grins. "Yeah. Incredibly impressed. I want to see you off probation and into the job fully. Your ideas and enthusiasm have been noted and we're eager to see more. Make it happen."

"Yes sir," I grin. Les sticks his hand out and I get a firm handshake.

"Off to grab the daughter? Annalise, right?"

"Yes, sir." How does he know that?

He nods. "Enjoy this time. When you're ready to take on custody, let me know. We're stockpiling the evidence needed to get joint custody when you're ready."

My smile drops. I'm stunned. Les looks at me, sober. "Nothing I hate more than watching a child be a pawn in an adult feud. I've seen it and I know the toll it takes. We're prepared to help."

If I could get past this lump in my throat, I might respond. RangeMan brotherhood. It's deep.


	59. Liaisons Week at the Beach, Part I

**A/N: Assume someone is translating for Hector. Conversations in **_**Italics**_** are in Spanish.**

* * *

**Chapter 59: Liaisons Week at the Beach, Part I**

**Bobby's POV**

Ram meets me at Newark Airport. We're headed straight to Point Pleasant from the airport and Ram has a grin on his face.

"Sir."

"Ram." I'm proud of Ram. He's done a good job of acting as both Trenton's mouthpiece and as Steph's. Brand new and making a name for himself. And he's great at calming clients. I'm impressed. "You look amused."

"Looking forward to this. Steph says we're building RangeWorld this week. The housekeepers have been in their space. It's impressive. I can see how they're using it and it's creative."

I nod, smiling. "Yes, Ella called wanting to talk about how to coordinate care for injured and sick RangeMen within it. The ladies have ideas. I'm not ready." We chuckle.

We're quiet for a moment before Ram speaks. "Permission to ask a question I know won't get an answer to?"

I chuckle. "I'm not discussing Boston."

Ram smiles. "HUA, sir!"

We catch each other's eyes and laugh.

* * *

Rodney is already onsite when I arrive. He's a very scared man. Adam and Thomas are looking at Rod as if they're prepared to kill him at the slightest offense. Hector is sharpening his blades openly. _Sigh_. This week cannot continue like this.

Steph is upstairs in the master. I pop upstairs and stretch out on the bed next to her.

"I'm having problems looking at him. I don't want to feel that way. I just don't know how to start with him," she whispers. I'm ready to break him. Steph looks pissed and I know she hates feeling that way.

"You have anything planned right now?" I ask.

"No," she replies, looking at me.

I smile. "Good. Let me have him for a while." She nods and I leave.

"_Put 'em away_," I whisper to Hector as I pass. I motion for Rod to follow me. "Fall out," I order Adam, Ram, and Thomas. "Start some dinner. We'll return."

I head toward the beach, Rod in tow. I pull off my shoes and walk the beach, enjoying the cool sand.

"You are in a dangerous position. Your colleagues are prepared to disappear your body. Your CO is having difficulty even looking at you. The CIO is mentally carving you like a Thanksgiving turkey. Me?" I look at Rod, who's turned pale under the brown skin. "Exit interview," I hiss.

Rod swallows hard and nods. "Yes, sir," he whispers.

"What makes this untenable for me is reading your reports. Liaison reports are supposed to be clear, concise and factual. I should be left in no doubt as to the activities of the branch. I have to read between the lines of yours. Then there's the fact that I **know** that entire activities are being left out of the report. So your reports are incomplete, which makes them a lie. That's dereliction of duty, failure to follow instructions and directives." Rod is breathing faster now. I whirl around in his path and he's forced to halt again. "Explain."

Rod's eyes drop to his feet. The silence stretches.

"Please, Rodney, explain how Bobby and I should respond to this." Steph's appeared and she's angry. "I've already heard Pat's bullshit explanation. What's yours?"

Rod looks out into the ocean for a while. Finally, "We thought we could straddle a line until Mark got his shit together."

Steph plops down in the sand and I join her. After a moment, Rod joins us. "We wanted him to shut up about you and work with you. You have power. We didn't want to be left out because he was being stupid. But we didn't have anything about you to run with. No idea of what you were like as CO. Just that it seemed you were willing to take on the Leadership Core and that they would give you what you wanted. We didn't want to be left out."

"Left out of what, Rodney?" I ask.

"Whatever benefits the CO could bring to Boston. Mark may be acting the ass right now, but if nothing else, we're about the bottom line up there. Maintain the number one position. Since the CO took over, we've dropped to three in Bonds Enforcement and we're aware that Danny can make money hand over fist in Atlanta with that. With Chase looking at more client services and financial offerings and Bonds Enforcement going gangbusters down there, we realized we could be knocked off. Not a situation we wanted to have. Then we heard the company might be in trouble."

"So you decided to do something completely insane in order to retain your position?"

Rod swallows. "Not insane. Just . . . unauthorized."

I look at Rod in wonder. I literally have no response to that. Steph does. She laughs. She falls into the sand and laughs. I stare at Rod and finally, I join Steph. Every time we die down, we look at each other and start laughing again. Rod realizes how fucked up his statement is and has his blank face back in place.

"Whose idea was it?"

"Mark's. We argued against it but . . . " he trails off.

"You didn't argue against it," Steph counters. "You put up a token protest then agreed, so all three of you share the blame. Don't throw my XO under the bus by himself. Why didn't you inform me?"

Silence.

"Why didn't you inform me?" I ask.

"You're in Texas, sir, building another branch—"

"I wasn't aware that Texas has yet to acquire telephone service," I reply coldly. "Nor was I aware that they lack internet services. Amazingly enough, when others call me, my cell phone works. My email still works."

Silence. Rod is trying desperately not to break down.

"So, what did Pat tell you?" Steph asks, wiping her face. She's wiping sand all over her face, which makes me chuckle. I pass my handkerchief but she grins and pulls one out. I raise my eyebrows, impressed.

"Nothing," Rod replies, confused. I'm watching him. No indicators he's lying, so I nod at Steph.

Finally, Steph looks at him straight on. "At the moment, I want to demote you. I really really do. But RangeMan brotherhood is a beast. You were trying to save your XO and you thought you were doing me a favor. You were wrong in both cases."

Steph proceeds to rip him the same new asshole she ripped for Pat and at the end of it, Rod's ignoring the tears running down his cheeks. I've put my blank face back into place.

"You have a hard position this week, Rodney. Your colleagues need to trust you and the looks Adam and Thomas are giving you tell me that their strategists gave them an idea of what you guys have been up to. They aren't pleased. Hector is ready to kill you. Ranger has already warned you. Bobby could give you your 'exit interview' now and allow Hector to dispose of your body. Again, I'm in the position of trying to figure out what to do with you and right now, I'm so angry at you and Pat I can barely look at you. So, tell me Rodney, since you're so keen to have **my** position, tell me what you would do."

Rod shakes his head. "Stephanie, I don't want your position—"

"Really?" she asks. "You mean you don't want the job of assessing men and branches? Making judgments? Calling the shots? Making decisions? Because you guys seem to be doing it anyway. Unauthorized, but you are."

Rod is silent. Put like that, he realizes how fucked he is. Steph sighs. "I need to see you perform over this week to decide what to do with you. This is my first time meeting you and you're already in the shit with me."

"And me," I add, coldly. Rod pales. "Steph's assessment will inform mine."

I stand and pull Steph to her feet. Rod has a lot of deep thinking to do. We start to walk away, but Steph stops. "Our conversation is not to make it back to your XO, but if you feel the need to call your partner-in-crime, go ahead."

We return to the house and the men look at us curiously. Steph heads back upstairs and we soon hear the shower go. I turn to the men, who are nearly done with dinner.

"_For the rest of the week, you will treat Rodney as if your strategist told you nothing of Boston's behavior,"_ I tell them, looking each man in the eye. Hector raises an eyebrow, as does Ram. "_Thomas, this is also your first time meeting your CO, and she wants him treated like a normal RangeMan so don't gain her displeasure by doing otherwise."_ Thomas nods, schooling his face back into a blank. "_Adam, Ram, I know Chase and Manny gave you every detail and I know you feel deeply for the CO. Put that aside and treat Rodney as you would have a month ago. Don't confront him, don't make it personal. Who's sharing the room with him?_" Thomas raises his hand. "_Again, don't cut him out._"

The men nod. Rod steps in to the house moments later and stares at the men cautiously.

"_We're about to divvy up KP_," Ram says calmly. Rod nods. "_You got a meal specialty?"_

"_Seafood,_" he replies.

Thomas grins. "_Fuck you. Get another one. That's mine. Miami!_" We all laugh and Rod smiles.

"_Well, everything else is heavy winter food. Casseroles, braises, that sort of stuff._"

"_Fine,_" Adam says. "_Looks like you two are doing seafood on your days."_

Steph steps back downstairs, freshly showered, and takes Rodney's arm. He starts, then smiles and escorts her to the table, pulling out her chair and being the gentleman. We say grace and enjoy the meal. Adam and Thomas grilled lobsters and made a massive salad for dinner, and at the end of the meal we're all patting our stomachs and smiling.

"You know what?" Steph says. We smile, waiting. "RangeMen all know how to cook! I just have to eat. This is great! Chase worked that grill like a pro last week."

Adam snorts. "Chase is an amateur. Did he do pulled pork?" Steph nods, grinning. "Nothing compared to mine. I'm feeling like brisket is in our future."

Ram snorts. "Well, while you put the CO to sleep with big cuts of meat, I've got the pasta salads." He smiles at Steph, who perked up. "Nope, not mayo based, but you'll like them."

She grins. "Do I look like I care? You guys are cooking. I'm thrilled."

"_I'll take care of her sweet tooth,_" Hector says, smiling. The men look over and grin. "_What? Someone has to take care of the 'sugar hormones'."_

Ram translates for Steph, who dances in the chair. "And **that** is why I **love** my partner!"

* * *

**Rodney's POV—Starting back at the beach**

I look at the departing backs of my boss and the CO and catch my breath. I'm in the fire. I can't believe it. Trying to pull Mark back from the brink, I ended up right in it. Now I understand why Adam and Thomas looked ready to kill me. Hector made me nearly shit my pants. I didn't expect him to be here, and watching him sharpen his blades and glare at me sent me to the bathroom twice. I never wanted to meet him and now that I have I believe the rumors.

Clearly, they all knew. They knew and were ready to kill me at first sight.

How did this happen? I shake my head. I know how it happened. I followed my XO to the brink and we overshot right into the fire. I pull my cell phone.

"Yo."

Silence on the other end. "How's your ass feeling?"

"How did you know?"

Pat snorts. "I'm hoping she returns my balls sometime this year. Most painful dressing down I ever got."

I swallow to prevent more tears, but I fail. I pull myself back together and wipe my eyes. "What do we do?" I ask quietly.

"Pray. That's all I can think of."

"Bobby threatened me with an 'exit interview'. Hector is here and he was sharpening blades when I walked in."

Pat whistles. "Shit. Sorry man."

"You think it's too late to kill the contracts?"

"Way too late. She knows, Les knows, Bobby knows, I'm betting Tank knows. We're committed. We'll pay for it, I'm sure."

"Then what?"

Pat is quiet, then, "Manny told me my job was to repair her rep here. Get the men to understand that Leadership is not to be questioned, regardless of what we've heard or think."

"We did that."

"No, we didn't. We contributed to the idea that she should be questioned by telling the men to make their own assessment and come to their own opinions. By telling them that we would search the company for info on her. By telling them that we would assess her when she came to assess us. She's right. We fucked up just as badly as Mark and we forgot our place. We should've told them to ignore Mark and be prepared to stand with the CO."

"How could we?! Everything we knew about her was bad!"

Pat sighs. "Doesn't matter, man. This was Leadership Core's call. This is Ranger's woman. The man is no idiot. Are we really suggesting he made a mistake?"

I'm silent. "No," I exhale. "Ranger's not known for making mistakes. Especially not when it comes to the company."

"Exactly. I've started on the rebuild here. I took Vic to the mats for suggesting that Mark's losing it. I reminded him that Leadership is not to be questioned. I see what the CO is talking about. By allowing Mark to break down the leadership here, he's also being called into question. The problem is now reaching him."

I sit back, stunned. Mark would never forgive Vic for that, partners or not. I see Pat's point, but Pat's not done.

"At the moment, we can only hope the rest of the branch passes review. She told me senior management has already failed."

"What! Why?" Before Pat can answer, I answer my own question. "Because Leadership's broken down."

"Exactly."

We're screwed. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"I was ordered not to. When you called, this early, I knew it had to be because they'd spoken to you. They told you to call me?"

"Yeah. Told me to consult with my partner-in-crime but I'm not to talk to Mark."

"Same warning I got. She must be planning to rip Mark a new one too."

I felt like half a man when she ripped my balls away. And she did it in front of my boss. That stung deeply. I'm quiet and so is Pat. Finally, I hear him clear his throat.

"I'll continue rebuilding respect for the leadership here. You just try to make it through the week. We'll figure out what to do later."

_Click_.

He's assuming I'll make it to later. Hector was sharpening blades!

* * *

Dinner is calm. I'm treated much better than I expect, but it's clear that each of the other liaisons is desperate to kill me. I realize that this is my first time meeting all of them, since I've only been in the position for a year, and they all hate me. Ram, especially, looks calm on the surface but when you look in his eyes, he's furious. I get the feeling I'm in crosshairs.

A sniper, an assassin, a former gangbanger, and a former cop. Ram, Hector, Thomas, and Adam. Every single one of these guys knows how to kill and not leave a trace.

My boss? I'm trying not to think about Liam's 'exit interview'.

After dinner, we meet in the living room for a quick chat. The CO is sitting next to Bobby and Hector has hooked his computer up to a 50" flat screen he brought with him.

"So, let's talk about this week's objectives. The main one is to get RangeWorld up and running for your use. You have the results of your working meetings and the ideas from your men. What we want to do is build out the spaces, set the security, and ensure that we have the right structure. We also want to start talking about the . . . " She looks at Hector, who grins.

"_The front facing website, the public website for the world._" Bobby is doing the translations for the CO and Ram is translating for Hector. I'm wondering how this partnership works.

"Right. I know that the strategists are just waiting on the day that we get the site set up to handle requests pouring in so that they just have to follow up on inquiries, but let's get the back end going first."

We spend the night agreeing on basic structures and setup. Hector creates sites and sub-sites for each branch, then 'communities' for each major product offering. The sites will only allow men at those branches to access the information, but the men in each group (like Bonds Enforcement or Client Services) can access the 'communities' to share information across the company on how to perform the job better. The CO groans when Adam tells her that the audio recordings of her skip tracing workshops will be the first items entered in the Bonds Enforcement community. Every other man grins and thanks Atlanta for recording her.

Even though the liaisons are doing a lot of the work setting up this environment this week, each branch's working group is also ready to fill in information back at the branch. Twenty minutes after I create the Bonds Enforcement sub-site for Boston, I see Victor's already started entering information in. He's been ready to get this up and running for a while, and he's doing a great job of getting everything filled in. I can see that it was good for us to plan this out over the past five months. We already know how it needed to be set up. Now we're just filling in the info.

At 2200, the CO calls for everyone to stop. "I know everyone could probably go for hours now that we're actually moving, but we have an entire week. Don't forget to take breaks, enjoy the beach and feed me." We laugh. "Oh, the second objective of this week!" She looks to Bobby, who nods. "The second objective this week is for me and Bobby to spend some time with each of you and hear your concerns, your thoughts. The liaisons are an important part of the management team at each location and I want to be sure that you guys are being heard." We nod, smiling. That's new.

Bobby picks up. "The job of the liaison is more than just the official mouthpiece of the branch. You are management and each of you fills the role in slightly different ways. We want to hear from you about you, your branch, and your thoughts on the company. That's why I'm here this week, that and because Steph's putting me to work." We chuckle and the CO slaps Bobby's arm. He grins. "We want to encourage you to feel free to talk to us about whatever you need to express, and we're here to start dialogue between the levels of management. Feel free to approach us over this week and in the future."

We nod and stand. The CO is yawning. "I'm headed to bed," she says. "I encourage all of you to go to bed too. We have all of tomorrow to keep going."

Everyone starts locking computers and making notes on where they left off. I'm surprised to find that Bobby is working on the San Antonio site and the CO is working on NYC. Bobby smiles. "Someone has to. NYC doesn't have a permanent liaison and I'm it for San Antonio. So yeah, we're working on those sites too."

"Who's handling the corporate site?"

"_Me_," Hector replies. "_I have the CO's notes on how she would like to see it. So much for this being a beach vacation. She's putting me to work. My work normally would be done now_."

We laugh and head upstairs to shower and go to bed. Thomas joins me in our bedroom and he's silent. Finally, he speaks to me.

"I've long respected Boston's juice, their lock on the number one position, the authority your XO has among his men and the way you guys conduct business. But this shit with the CO?" I hear him exhale. "Trenton, Atlanta, and NYC are trying to ensure that no one in their branches hears about it. Otherwise, you guys won't have to worry about Leadership Core getting you. The other branches will skin you alive."

"We know," I whisper.

"Nah, you don't have a fucking clue, but Bobby has asked us to treat you the way we would have a month ago. Use that to your advantage, because right now, Ram, Hector, and Adam are ready to disappear you." Thomas rolls over and I'm left to pray I last the week.

* * *

**Ram's POV—Beginning during the evening**

Woody and Binkie are going mad in our RangeWorld site. As quickly as I get things set up, they're filling in info and transferring scanned files in. Binkie is mad about this project and bought a SharePoint book to study, so he was ready to get moving. He's directing things back at the office and our site is coming up fast.

Hector leans over my shoulder and whistles. "_Nice job. I see everyone's keeping to the agreed upon standards._"

"_Oh yeah. Manny's smug because he was thrilled about getting this up and running and now, seeing it come alive?_" I snort. _"I'll have to take him to the mats._"

Hector chuckles and I continue to work. A lot of the standards were my idea. I bought a few books, searched for info on best practices and really played in Manny's temp world before the license expired. I set up the libraries to file status reports, expense reports, everything currently sitting on the Atlanta servers, and I see Benny start moving stuff in. The guys doing monitoring this week are pulling double duty. Half are watching twice as many monitors as normal while the others work on the site. Everyone switches every two hours so we stay fresh. Junior is walking the bullpen to ensure everyone is on task. Hal's even taking a turn on the monitors to ensure that nothing is being overlooked.

Trenton is a lean operation and, with so many of our men gone, we're leaner than ever. We've gone from 43 men to 30, not counting Steph, Ella, and Luis, but even there, Luis is helping on the monitors this week. I'm starting to agree with Hal. Steph's gotta stop poaching or start picking up some monitoring shifts. It's a running joke in the office that every time Hal gets annoyed with 'Sis' for poaching his men, he adds more time to the monitor duty backlog. Steph grins, but when it gets over 15 hours, she gets the point and starts taking monitor shifts like Ranger used to.

That was actually Tank's idea. He told Hal that when Ranger started ducking too many of the in-house management duties in favor of active work, he'd add time to a private log he and Ranger kept. After 30 hours, Ranger had to sit his butt in a chair and get it back down under 10 hours. That answered a question that used to plague me when I was the head of the monitoring unit. I could never figure out how Ranger scheduled himself in because it just seemed totally random.

In any case, Hal loved the idea: a non-confrontational way to tell his beloved little sister to stop poaching his men and help and, after some initial grumbling, Steph also got the point. I think Tank may have told her the same story. Otherwise, Steph would **never** take monitor duty if she could help it.

Adam and I are sharing a room and we're shit talking about our offices as we prep for bed. "Man, I'm telling you, the CO is starting to make Danny nervous now. She's starting to poach in our office and Danny's giving his phone the side eye now when she calls out of the blue." Adam stretches and runs his hands through his short blond hair. That reminds me; I gotta get a haircut.

I laugh. "Shut up. You guys are in the middle of a hiring binge. Atlanta does **not** feel Trenton's pain."

"Yeah, I know but Danny hates being left out of anything going on in Trenton. 'Trenton is the model' is what he preaches in our offices and I swear, it's like Danny and Hal are in a bromance," Adam says, laughing. I'm trying not to piss myself. "If Hal is doing it in Trenton, we're doing it in Atlanta within days."

"Same in Trenton. Whatever's going on in Atlanta I hear about from Hal. He's always got his eye on what you guys are doing. Zip and Marcus are at war and I hear Mack's declared war on both of them in redecorating. Of course, it was Brooklyn-ese so he may have just called us assholes." I shrug and Adam buries his face in the pillow. "We'll know soon enough."

Adam and I are chuckling so much Bobby pokes his head in. "What's so funny?"

I motion for him to come in and get him caught up. Bobby's shoulders are shaking in silent laughter. "We're watching the Trenton-Atlanta feud. I personally find it hilarious and I've got my money on the home team." He and Adam high-five.

"Traitor!" I exclaim.

"Atlanta's working hard to get the crown." Bobby sobers but is still smiling. "Believe me, Leadership Core is extremely pleased by everything the two offices are doing. We're proud and we're even more proud that you seem to be pulling NYC into the rivalry."

"We understand the CO asked our XOs to reach out to Javi. Now that he has Jorge at his back, Manny says he's killing us in client services," I tell Bobby, who nods.

"Jorge is determined to prove he was a good gamble and Les told him he wants him off probation soon. He's going gangbusters in NYC. I'd like you to spend some time with him, Ram. Get him comfortable with a gun. He still feels uncertain. You too, Adam. As long as you're posted there, work with him."

I nod and reach for my new moleskin to write a note. Bobby takes note. "How's the transition been?"

"Hal's nicknamed me 'Silver Tongue'." Bobby grins. "I'm the man sent into the Lion's Den, as we've renamed the CO's office, every time we need to break news or ask a favor. I'm just grateful Steph loves us. Otherwise, I might need to submit an expense report for a sword and shield."

Bobby sinks to the floor in laughter. Thomas pokes his head through the door. "Are we staying up late telling ghost stories in here or what?" That sends us all into a fit of laughter. Thomas grins and sits on the floor.

"Rod?" I ask. The room sobers.

"Asleep. A very scared man." We nod. He should be.

"What's the climate in Miami like?" Adam asks. We're concerned. We don't want Steph walking into a fire fight.

"Mixed. The Housekeepers' War is taking its toll. The majority of the office got the point and started working with the housekeepers to assist them in their duties. We got our food and laundry service back and the men are healthy. It's serious, sir," Thomas says, looking at Bobby. "You may want to schedule a surprise health inspection soon. Men are losing weight, health problems are disappearing, and respect for the ladies is at an all-time high. Our only remaining issues gel around one asshole and the little clique he has."

"Fire him," Bobby says.

"We want to. Believe me, we want to but Mando's in a tight spot. It's his cousin, and his family would go ape shit. Antonio's the beloved son. That would be like you, sir, telling Ranger to fire Les."

Bobby cringes. "Good point. Ranger loves his family but business and family are separate. I'd like to say that Ranger would fire Les if he had to but . . . " Bobby shrugs. "On one hand, I acknowledge that Les would have to commit murder before Ranger would abandon him and even then it would depend on who Les killed."

I'm thinking only the deaths of Julie, Steph, and Tank would piss Ranger off that badly.

"On the other, if Les's actions started fucking with the company, that's different. Ranger would fire Les without hesitation and tell his family that the day they were responsible for 500 men is the day they could make business decisions for him." Bobby looks at Thomas hard. "The difference is Les would never put Ranger in that position. Sounds like Antonio's not that bright." Bobby leans back and frowns. "Is that the same asshole that tried to challenge Hector for the CIO job?"

Thomas nods, grimacing. "Mando wants to. He really does. But his family pretty much lives in his house. They're forever in his business and Antonio is the darling. I don't think he's prepared, yet, for the waves of criticism and bitching he'll get when he does it. I just know that when he does, it will be because Antonio pushed him too far and Mando will be vicious when he does it."

"Are Antonio's fuckups affecting Mando or the branch?"

"Both."

Bobby nods. "Keep me apprised. If the firing needs to come from a higher level, we can make that happen."

I kick back in the bed. "Well, I think it will be a fight to determine who accompanies Steph to Miami. Hal's determined. He wants to stop the swag where it starts." Bingo! We're laughing again. "I think Hector is also planning to go."

"_What's that? I heard my name_," Hector says, poking his head through the door. We laugh and shuffle to accommodate his entry. I catch him up on the discussion and he nods. "_Got that right. I'll be damned if I let __**my**__ partner go back to Miami without me._"

"_Just try not to get shot this time," _I tease. "_The CO scared us enough the first time. Tears? Shooting the paper man in the balls? Setting up shop in Apartment 1? Trenton was terrified and no one knew what had happened. Manny kept his mouth shut and every time we tried to ask Bombshell, she looked weepy."_

Hector laughs. We're grinning.

"_In any case, we were all thrilled to find you actually have a weakness."_ Hector glares and everyone looks intrigued. "_Oh believe me, it's useless. Tears and bossy women. Honestly. Steph hates to cry and Maria . . . well, Maria was a general but I can't see anyone else bossing Hector around like that."_

"_Damn right_," Hector grumbles. We smirk. "_A week of fucking bed rest. I felt like a baby, not a bad ass_."

Bobby falls over laughing. The rest of us turn red with the effort not to.

"_In any case, something separate I wanted to ask about this week was communication and gossip within the company. I notice that it's died down," _Bobby says, looking me, Adam, and Thomas in the eyes. _"I don't really expect a lot of gossip out of Trenton but even Miami is dying down."_

"_We don't have a lot to gossip about,"_ Thomas replies. _"Ryan's become a beast in Accounting. He's instituted new policies, signed off on by the CO. You can't come into the Accounting offices without an appointment and the only person you can discuss numbers with is him and his deputy. No one else. Any man found in the Accounting offices without an appointment better have a very good reason or it's 30 minutes on the mats. I think everyone in the office forgot that Ryan is no slouch on the mats. First time Ryan took Pedro to the mats for trying to get info from Lucky reminded everyone that he's still got it."_

Bobby nods, eyebrow raised. Thomas grins.

"_And Hector here solved another huge problem for us." _Everyone looks intrigued._ "We got sick of having to admit to each housekeeper that her temporary apartment might be bugged because the men were pissed about the housekeepers not taking orders from them. So we instituted new policies, signed off on by the CO and backed up by the CIO." _Thomas dips his head to Hector, who smirks.

"_Any bugs put to purposes not signed off on by the management will gain you one week on the mats. No exceptions. Hector was kind enough to inform Miami management that at the first infraction he would make a special trip to Miami to 'talk'," _Thomas finger-quotes and we're grinning, _"to the perpetrator. The men are scared to go anywhere near Electronics and Communications now."_

We fall over laughing. Damn! Bobby wipes his face and turns to Adam.

"_Nothing to report in Atlanta either. Once Sam got his ass handed to him, courtesy of Hector, most of our leaks plugged themselves. I submit disinformation Boston's way every so often, but the CO's attitude to gossip is pretty much informing everyone's attitudes._"

Bobby turns to me. "_Your work?_"

"_Yes, sir. I know how much Steph hates gossip, especially gossip about her, so my first task when I took over was to start letting it be known that it needed to die."_

"_Good man,"_ Hector says. Bobby smiles.

"_I agree. Exactly what I would have expected of you, Ram."_

* * *

**A/N: You guys have ****no**** idea how great the one-shot prompts were, but you'll find out. Why? I've already written two, have a third in the works, and used part of one in the Tank/Lula story. That said, obviously I'm going to try to use as many of them as I can (that fit within my storyline), so keep 'em coming. Look for a new story posting called **_**Change in the Wind: The One-Shots**_**. When I have one that works, I'll post those on Sundays, to help you get through the weekend. First up: Mary Lou!**

**Finally, thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I ****will**** answer them. I'm working out a new system to keep track of all of them.**


	60. Liaisons Week at the Beach, Part II

**Chapter 60: Liaison Week at the Beach, II**

**Thomas's POV**

Sharing a room with Rodney this week is going to be difficult. I want to kill him. I don't know much about what's going on, but I do know that Armando and Diego have worked directly with and respect the CO deeply. That's all I need to know. Rodney should be grateful I don't have direct experience with her. If I did, he'd need to sleep with one eye open.

I'm not much of a talker, which makes my position as liaison difficult sometimes. Diego, Armando and I have all laughed about it. Armando talks too fucking much for his position and Diego and I don't talk at all. We've laughed that perhaps the wrong men are in the wrong positions.

I can tell that Diego is on his last days in Miami. His NYC work made him a star and it's clear Armando is trying to train him to become an XO. I know Diego wants the position, he's waiting on it, and it's just a matter of where it will be. I'm hoping San Antonio; I'm hoping his position doesn't come at Armando's expense.

Armando's a good leader. When we first started in Miami, Armando was a **beast**! He's lost part of that and I hope to get some time with the CO to hip her to Armando's difficulties. I'm sure just about everyone has thrown him under the bus, but it's not fair to him. His problem is personal. His problem is family. He's too fucking successful and his family is a bunch of leeches. They've sucked that man's backbone away from him. He needs help and I'm hoping the CO is willing to help him.

Diego told me to be absolutely honest with the CO, hold nothing back. She's major, he said (and I joked on him for picking up NYC slang, especially from my cousin) and she's a woman to be trusted. Mack's in love with her. The addition of Jorge to the branch has really made a difference. Javi's a different man and the entire branch is coming back fast. Mack won't tell me what the numbers are like but he keeps telling me to watch my ass. I laughed and tried to determine when I'd get a chance to talk to her this week. She's a woman much loved by NYC, Trenton, and Atlanta and getting time alone with her will be difficult.

I wake up early Monday morning and go for a jog. Just my luck; the CO and the chief liaison are on the beach jogging. I catch up quickly and we all jog in silence. After 40 minutes, the CO heads back to the house and I nod to show I'll follow her. Bobby nods and continues down the beach. I catch up and the CO has collapsed in the driveway. I'm ready to drop and commence CPR when she grins.

"Time me?"

I grin. Thank god, she's OK. She does her sit-ups while I count. "Forty-nine."

She flops back and grins. "Shoot! So close."

"What are you aiming for?"

"Fifty-one in two minutes."

I smile. She is close. "Next measure?"

"Twenty-three pushups in two minutes. I've been managing about 25, so I'm sure I'll make this."

I count. "Twenty-five."

She hops up and dances a little jig, which makes me laugh. "Need me to time you?"

I nod and she times me. I'm well within standard, which makes her scrunch her nose. "Lucky."

I laugh. "Nah. Hard work. Dedication. Determination not to have Bobby catch me slipping. My luck sucks. The chief medical officer for the company is also my boss. If I fail medical, he won't be happy."

"Has it ever happened before?" We've stretched out in the driveway, resting.

"Once. Right after I got off probation. I got cocky, thinking that I wouldn't be tested again for a while. Monthly health check was two weeks later." I look over and instead of the grin I expect, the CO is sober. "It was embarrassing. I was up as a candidate to be liaison for Miami and Bobby torpedoed it. Said that if I couldn't be trusted to set an example in the shit the men could see me pass or fail every day, I couldn't be trusted with the stuff they might never see." The CO swallows and nods. "Armando took me to the mats and beat my ass for it. He'd put himself on the line to promote me as the liaison candidate and here I was getting caught and embarrassed. I made Ranger question his judgment. I vowed that it would never happen again."

"So what happened?"

"I worked to get my ass back up to standard, actually well above standards, then begged Bobby to come reassess me. He refused to do it and he didn't show for three months. I was at the 80% level and I maintained it. I still maintain it. I refuse to allow anyone to question the leadership's judgment in picking me. I'm a former gangbanger with a record. I got enough strikes against me. I don't need people questioning the competency of the only men to ever trust me."

I look over at the CO and she's quiet. Sober. I smile at her and get a small smile back. "Didn't mean to depress you, boss lady."

She laughs. "You reminded me of Mack right then."

I grin. "Cousin."

"Really?" She attempts to raise an eyebrow and I remind myself not to laugh. We've heard she can't do it.

"Yeah. He maintains 80% too, just to remind himself that the bigger the fuckup, the harder the climb back."

She nods. I decide to strike while the fire is blazing. "Permission to speak freely?"

She groans. "I'm beginning to hate that phrase. It always precedes things that make me think or depress the hell out of me."

I grin. "Sorry. More of the same, but I'll tell you, I want to talk about my XO."

She looks over, intrigued. "Permission granted."

I take a deep breath and pray I'm doing the right thing. "Keep him."

She looks confused. "Huh?"

"Keep him. Help him. He needs help, support, encouragement, something. The man is drowning." Her face encourages me to say everything I want to, so I let loose. "Let me back up to the day the XO was named. It was either going to be Mark or Armando. Mark had been serving as interim for months while Ranger brought up Boston. In Miami, we were praying for Mando. We like Mark, but Mark and Miami didn't mesh just right. Mando does, or at least he did.

When Ranger returned and named Mando as XO and announced that Mark would take Boston, we partied. I mean, you've never seen a party like the way we partied when we heard that. Ranger and Tank looked amused by it but Mando? Armando understands Miami in a way that Mark never will. So, the first four years, Mando is going gangbusters in Miami. Then he makes a fatal mistake. He hires his cousin, Antonio, into the branch. Within six months, Diego and I are begging him to fire the little fucker."

Steph smiles. She sits up and waves at Bobby, who staggers into the driveway. "You OK, Bobby?"

"Yeah. Shower for me, unless I need to stay?" He looks at the two of us, curious.

"Nah. Matter of fact, it would really help me if you prevent the rest from coming this way." Bobby nods and walks inside. Yes! I've got her attention. Steph looks over at me. "Go on."

"OK, so he hires Antonio and Diego and I are begging him, literally begging him, to get rid of the fucker. I mean, Miami is already a . . . difficult city for women?" I raise an eyebrow and she nods. She understands. "Antonio?" I shake my head. "That bastard is the chief womanizer and sexist in the office. I want to be rid of him so bad you can't understand it. Diego is ready to kill him, but firings are an XO function and we recognize that Mando is in a tight spot. He can't fire the fucker without his entire family losing their collective minds.

You see, Antonio is the baby, the favorite. They've spoiled that bastard beyond reason simply because he nearly died as a baby. So now, we have this spoiled, selfish asshole in our office and we have a power struggle. Antonio is charismatic, I'll give him that. He's charismatic and charming and you don't see the rot in him until it's too late and he's managed to pull a group around him to beat Mando down all the time. Me too and I'm sick of it. Mando's sick of it. His family is a bunch of leeches and complainers and no man can live with that for the rest of his life. "

I lie back and breathe. I'm hoping she has a solution. "Ms. Plum, I'm begging you now, and I'm not a man to beg, but when you get him here for XO week, talk to him. Help him. The XO I have now is not the man Ranger put in charge. It's not the man he once was. He needs help badly."

It's quiet in the driveway now. I look over after a few minutes and the CO is staring into the sky. "The info I have about Armando is all over the place, but you and Diego have told me and Lester the same thing. Antonio has to go. I'm curious. Tell me about the psyop you guys ran on Miami. Why do you think it didn't work?"

"Because we didn't have any support." She looks over, grim. I nod. "You gotta understand, we didn't approach this half-assed. Diego is a brilliant strategist and Mando is a good XO."

She sighs. "I saw Diego's work in NYC. He and Manny saved that branch and Manny was clear that Diego was responsible for most of it."

I smile, proud of Diggy. "Yeah. It was Mando's idea in the first place. He got tired of seeing how Maria was used by the men and he wanted to make up for not setting the standards for her when she arrived. So when we started planning this, we approached it with the same intensity but we didn't count on the level of blowback we got. So, we get started and it was supposed to be a graduated plan. Mando started by asking, telling, Maria to stop serving the men at their desks. No liquids, no food. We modified SOPs to encourage that and it appeared to be going well.

Then he asks her to modify meals. Nothing fatty, nothing breaded, nothing fried, but the men had trained Maria to what they wanted. That was the first major hurdle. While Mando is asking her to do the right thing, they're complaining and moaning to Maria until she couldn't take it. They're her 'boys' and Maria caved to make them happy. When they started getting what they wanted again, they were happy and she was still being run around and we couldn't get her to **see** that.

It was the three of us against the 80 of them and even though we have them on the mats constantly, it's not working. The men and Maria, none of them see that Maria's treatment is wrong. They just think we're being assholes. Ella comes down for her review and dings Maria but she doesn't do anything else. So no support there. Meanwhile, we're in a tight spot again. The men have Maria slipping them treats under the table and they buy closed lid containers to get around our rules on drinks at desks. They're all treating us like we're fucking idiots and blind and we're pissed. We'd fire them but then we'd have to fire everyone because they're **all** doing it. If we fire, we have to be fair."

I blow out a frustrated breath and look at the CO. She has a blank face on and she's staring at the sky.

"Ranger popped into town and he was in office for about two days and everything was running right. They know better than to fuck with Maria when Ranger's there because he won't accept it. On the third day, Mando went to ask him how long he was staying, hoping that his presence would lend some support to our plan."

I look at her and she's looking at me, confused. "Ranger's first two days in town are about catching up on the company as a whole. No interruptions unless someone is dead or dying. So Day Three is our first opportunity but by the time Mando reached his office, Ranger was already gone."

"What?" She looks outraged and stunned.

"Yeah," I reply, lying back on the ground. "We checked the garage and saw the tail lights of the Lamborghini leaving. So we knew he wasn't coming back anytime soon. Then the plan went to all hell." I swallow hard and shake my head. "Julie was kidnapped. That's why he left like a bat outta hell. That's why he was there in the first place, not company business but trying to get a bead on who kidnapped her. Clusterfuck because, of course, she became the priority and none of us will argue that. But it meant that by the time everything settled down again and we were ready to reinstitute the plan, Ranger was in Trenton again and once he's in Trenton it's fucking impossible to get him to leave."

There are tears rolling down Steph's face. I pass her my handkerchief and watch her smile. I wonder why she's crying and I remember that Ranger was shot in her apartment. He was in Trenton that time trying to heal. Right.

"So we take another look, retool the plan, set the best conditions we can, and try again. This time we call Trenton in advance, to get their support from afar, but it was impossible to get anyone in Leadership to answer or pay attention. Months later we find out about the break-ins. That's what was going on the second time we tried." I shake my head.

"We looked at the plan and realized it was just fucking impossible," I continue quietly. "We were dealing with ingrained habits and mindsets and we honestly had no idea how in the hell to fix that. Not just the men but Maria too. Until she saw that she was wrong, we were screwed." I'm swallowing hard, trying not to cry, but I fail. I feel every bit of frustration and irritation come out and a few tears slip down my cheeks. "We're dealing with the hearts of men, Steph." My voice cracks and she passes me her handkerchief and sits close to me, hugging me. I feel her wave someone off. I sit and breathe deep until I pull myself together.

"That's why I want your help. We can't take much more. Mando is close to the edge. The shit pisses him off but everyone in this is culpable. Core Team has tried but we have some blame because we allowed it to happen in the first place, and we aren't running from our fair share of blame.

Maria? We hear Maria is becoming a force and you don't understand how fucking glad we are to hear that. She finally sees that what happened to her is wrong and we hope that if she returns to Miami she can **help** us finally put them in their places. Ella? Man, for the first time we can say Ella's name and not roll our eyes. She's finally done _something_ to help and we know Ranger kicked this off. Had to be and we finally realized that it happened because of you."

I look at her and smile. It's a little shaky and she smiles and wipes my face.

"Because he knew you were coming to Miami, he finally decided to do something permanent to help so you wouldn't have to face that. So already, Miami Core loves you. Without coming to Miami, you've already helped solve a huge problem. Watching the rest of the housekeepers around the company put the men in their places has been the best entertainment we've had in months. Hell, years!

For the first time, we have women in that building who are giving the men a big 'Fuck You' and they don't know how to take it. Mando is doing a shit job hiding his amusement and so am I. We're thrilled because the men in the branch are finally starting to get it. Respect the women. Respect the housekeeper. Quit treating her like a fucking maid. A woman is not a lesser creature and your dick isn't that fucking special."

Steph falls back onto the driveway and howls. After a few minutes I join her. That was Diego's last comment last week, with some added insults for certain members of the branch, and Mando and I laughed till it hurt. Finally, Steph calms down and looks at me, shaking her head.

"So, there's a lack of respect for women in the branch, which I'd already heard about. I've heard more than I want to about Antonio. Do you truly think he's the problem?"

I take a moment to consider. "He's a big part of the problem."

"What's the other part?"

This is probably the hardest thing I will ever say to this woman and I hope I never hear it again. "Ranger is not a man who . . . makes it comfortable for you to talk to him, but it's not anything that he actually does." I look over at her and she nods, grim. "Ranger always seems to know everything going on anyway. Most of us are convinced he can read minds." This makes her flop back and laugh hard. I guess she's felt it too.

"We respect Ranger, would follow him to the ends of the earth, fight and die under his command, but it also means that you're determined not to screw up. Not to make him question your judgment. Not to disappoint him. Ranger is a great boss and the fact that he will hire you and put you in a position of trust where most companies look at you and shred your application the moment you turn your back, I mean, it encourages you to never step wrong."

Steph nods, a faint smile on her face.

"So there's a reluctance to call him and say, 'Sir, I need your help. I have a problem.' Because it's like saying, 'Sir, I can't do this. I'm not ready. I don't know how.' We'll do any fucking thing to prove he was right to hire us. And there's a respect level there that doesn't encourage you to be intimate with the man. Same with most of Leadership Core. We know their reps and if you don't know, you're quickly told all the stories that reinforce the fact that we are led by brilliant men. You get in the presence of that kind of brilliance and power and you shut up and show respect. Bust your ass, do your best, show that you were a good gamble."

"Do you find the Leadership Core hard to talk to?" she asks.

I really think about her question. "More intimidating than anything. I feel I can talk to Bobby about my liaison duties but anything else? No. I don't really have a reason to call Tank or Lester. Ranger?" I shrug. "You want to know why the men in this company love you?" She nods, intrigued. "Because we feel we can talk to you. Not because you're a woman or a soft touch or anything insulting like that. Nah, the word has gone out. Be honest with the CO and she'll listen. She cares. She can be trusted and she is crafty, cunning, and brilliant, but she's approachable. She wants to hear what you have to say. She'll come up with some insanely brilliant or incredibly simple solution to your problem.

Every man in this company knows that that's how NYC came back. Javi had the balls to call you and be honest and you listened to him. You cared and you helped him. Atlanta? You taught them your secrets to skip apprehension, then gave them permission to move on all kinds of stuff and they're going gangbusters. That's the word out about you, so for the first time, all these core teams finally feel that we have someone we can call. One person we can all talk to, not just one member of Leadership or another. Mack told me that after you rode along with him, and Diego told me the same thing. Be honest with the CO. She can be trusted. She's major."

Steph starts laughing and I can tell it was Mack's term that did it. He loves calling things 'major'.

"You can't beat us up on the mats, unless Hector's been teaching you something new and scary." She laughs harder. "So, we're left with a boss who we know nothing about, but what we're learning is that when we need someone to talk to, we can call you and you'll listen. You've sat out here with me for the past hour and listened to me. I couldn't have done this with Ranger but with you it felt right. I let you know how I feel and I know that, whatever happens, you'll do what's right. You've proven that, in NYC, in Atlanta, in Trenton. I'm just gonna kick back and wait for the results now."

She nods, smiling. "You feel you've told me everything you needed to?"

I nod. "Yeah. I've wanted to say that for at least a year. I'm finally feeling like I took this to the right person. I've used up all my words for the month. Maybe three months."

She doubles over laughing and reaches her arms out. I hop up and pull her to her feet. She grins and catches me in a hug. Been so long since I've been hugged that she caught me off guard but I return it. It's nice. No, that's not it. It's great. I squeeze and she laughs.

"Ouch! More strength than you think." I laugh. "You could snap my arm in two," she pouts.

"You're stronger than you look."

* * *

**Adam's POV**

The CO finally steps into the house. She looks happy and cheerful, which is good. We were about to affect a kidnapping. Why on earth did Thomas need to keep her outside for over an hour? At one point, Bobby stepped outside but Steph waved him off, so whatever she and Thomas were talking about, it was serious. Well, whatever it was, they both look happy, so Hector is less grumpy. I swear, he was reminding me of my grandmother, walking by the front door every few minutes to check on her.

I'll never tell him that, though.

Hector showed Ram the app on his phone he's using to communicate with the CO and we all finally understand how they're making that partnership work. Cool idea and we should've guessed Hector would be the one to find a solution like that.

Bobby agreed to take breakfast duty for the week. We laughed Saturday when he outlined the plan.

"_Bobby, sir, I don't consider corn flakes breakfast_," Ram said.

"_I'll tell Ella you said that._"

Ram laughed. "_At least Ella would've given us some sliced fruit to go with it, maybe even some yogurt_."

Bobby tossed him a peach. "_Have at it._"

We all laughed and Bobby grinned. "_This is just day one. Tomorrow we have Cheerios, Monday is Fiber One_." We'd all collapsed in laughter at this point. I never realized my boss had such a wicked sense of humor. Les is the one known for his sense of humor. "_Tuesday we'll finish off the box of corn flakes. If we get a lot of work done, I might even pick up a box of Frosted Flakes_."

The promise of sugar as a bribe had us in stitches. Stephanie walked downstairs and demanded to know what was so funny.

"I was outlining the week's breakfast menu," Bobby said. He repeated the schedule for Steph, who laughed with us.

"Liaisons are falling down on the job. Pat fed me bacon and eggs!"

Bobby grinned. "I'm reporting that to Ella. I see pulses in your future."

Steph looked horrified. "You wouldn't!"

"See? Doesn't my breakfast plan look much better by comparison? Puts you closer to Pino's much sooner."

Steph considered this and grinned. "You still suck, Bobby."

He shrugged. "Intel to the enemy, Bomber. Shouldn't have told me what you ate last week. At least breakfast this week will be healthy. The guys can spoil you at lunch and dinner and Hector's feeding you sugar. What more could you ask for?"

"Doughnuts, bacon and eggs," she pouted, taking a bowl of Corn Flakes and some sliced strawberries from Ram. She hip-bumped Bobby, who smiled. "You're cheating. The rest of the guys planned great meals. You're doing self-serve."

"I'm ready to administer this release," Bobby said. "Hal keeps bragging about your skills and all I hear from Ram here is that if you shoot the paper man in the balls one more time, he's calling in a psychiatrist."

"You weren't supposed to tell her that!" Ram exclaimed. "She wasn't supposed to know until the doc started asking her to discuss her earliest memory."

The CO was laughing through the tears at that point.

* * *

I've never laughed so much at work in my life. This week at the beach, with my boss and the CO, has been great. I'm learning about my colleagues and the company leadership. I hope we do this again next summer. It's been a great way to get a lot of company work done.

Bobby passes around platters of fruit he'd sliced earlier this morning and we tuck into breakfast. Today? Raisin Bran and for some reason we're tearing through it like little kids. Steph is laughing but it's been a while since I've had Raisin Bran. I have two bowls. Afterwards, each man drifts back to his computer and gets started building RangeWorld again. I stop at 1100 to prep lunch and find Ram in my space, prepping a pasta salad. I pick a bowtie out the bowl and get popped for my efforts.

"Out, dude. Mind the grill."

I take the prepared shrimp and scallop skewers and heat the grill. Minutes later, lunch is on. It's the normal 20 minute torture with the CO, and Thomas and Rod shift in their seats looking pained.

Bobby smirks. "Leave when she starts eating Hector's desserts."

We all laugh. Watching her eat Hector's rice pudding on Saturday and caramel flan on Sunday was more than most of us could take. We left the room or went running. Hector was smirking when we all gathered together again.

Ram snorts. "_What do you have planned?"_ he asks Hector.

Hector's grin is evil. "_Flan. Pineapple today._ _Buñuelos. Rice pudding. Natilla. Bread pudding with dulce de leche. Strawberry shortcake with fresh strawberry ice cream__. I'm still trying to make up my mind on the schedule._"

We're all drooling. I love every single one of those options and I'm prepared to run a few miles. The CO looks confused.

"If you guys are drooling, I get the feeling I'm going to love it. What's Hector saying?"

Ram translates quickly and Steph's eyes glaze over. She pulls her phone, hits the app and says, "Kitchen! Now! Don't promise me endless sweets I can't see! Produce!" The app translates and Hector laughs.

We laugh and start clearing the table. Steph smiles then motions for me to follow her. I ask for a few minutes, to situate the brisket on the grill, then follow.

We head toward the beach. I'm curious about what she might want.

"I want to know how it's going in Atlanta and in NYC. Having difficulty holding down two branches?"

I smile. "I finally learned how to juggle it, but I think I have a liaison prospect for Javi. Someone from Atlanta. Name's Drake and he's in client services, so he can also help Jorge. I wanted to ask you to approve a short-term transfer for him to NYC to see if he can handle it."

Steph nods. "You think he can do it?"

"I think so. I ran the idea past Danny and he's grumbling that Atlanta is becoming the new Trenton." Steph giggles. I mimic Danny, fist raised to the sky. "'She's poaching my men! I'll never catch Hal like this!' I'm sure you recognize that Hal's laughing at him now."

She wipes her eyes. "OK, I get the point. I need to do the Boston and Miami reviews so I can pull those men too."

We walk along the beach and I enjoy the time out of the house. "Question." She turns, smiling. "Charlotte." Her smile dims.

"Yeah, I know. I have the beginnings of a plan in mind for that. That's why I wanted to know how you were handling two branches."

I shrug. "We knew when you approved us setting them up that it would be an increase in workload. We prepared for it. My backup is handling most of the Atlanta liaison duties so I can focus on NYC and helping Chase with Charlotte. If Drake works out for NYC, the pressure will ease some and I can refocus on Atlanta and Charlotte."

"Anything else I need to know?"

"I was ordered to beg you to come back soon. The men want to see you again and Jase and Danny owe Hal and Ram one."

The CO hangs her head and laughs. "They aren't planning to lose them in the Georgia backwoods, are they?"

"Nope. Much worse." I grin. "Leaving them with Danny's sons in the middle of rush hour traffic after the boys have had sugar."

Steph laughs. "Wouldn't faze them. They've met my nieces. Hal and Ram can tune out almost anything."

We laugh and return to the house.

* * *

**Steph's POV**

RangeWorld is going wonderfully and the liaisons are getting along great. Even Rod is being treated like a member of the team, but every so often I'll catch Ram's eye and the look in it suggests sniper cross-hairs.

Rod has not been forgiven. I know that Hal will want to break Mark, slowly and painfully.

I walk along the beach Tuesday evening, listening to the seagulls and thinking about Boston. I honestly don't know what to do there. I know the initial response is to label all of it treason and fire everyone, but we just did that in NYC. The rebuild is going well because we kept the XO, but what happens if we remove every layer of top management?

My phone rings just as I hear someone approach me from behind. I turn. Bobby, so I answer the phone.

"Hey, Beautiful!"

"Hey, Les. Bobby's here with me." Bobby's caught me in a hug and I've put the phone on speaker. We stand in the shallow waters hugging each other.

"I picked up Shane from Miami. He will not be missed."

I snort. "Doubted it. Well?"

"Confessed everything he did and is hoping for mercy from you. What do you think? Your opinion changed?"

"Nope. Demotion. Anyone willing to take him?"

"Mark, Mando, and Hal have all said hell no. I'm betting Danny will too."

"I'm saying it for him," Bobby replies. "Don't put him in my home branch. I'll be tempted to kill him."

Les sighs. "I'll have to keep him separate from Tank. Tank's ready to kill him too."

It's quiet as all three of us consider the options. "San Antonio for now," I tell Les. "Perhaps Charlotte. Tell Tank to keep him until September. If he resigns before then, accept it."

"Good plan." _Click_.

_Sigh_. RangeMan phone manners. Not even worth the fight anymore. I twist around in Bobby's embrace so I can stare at the water.

Bobby and I stand in the water for a few more minutes before Bobby chuckles. "Bomber?"

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me this is a gun. I prefer to think it's a gun, not that you're happy to see me because that would be disturbing."

I crack up. I forgot that when Bobby is in a really good mood, he has a sense of humor like Lester's.

"Yes, I have a gun in the small of my back."

We separate and Bobby pulls my piece, a Glock 26. Ram thought it was perfect as a personal piece. I was surprised it was so small. I don't mind wearing this gun. With the right holster, I sometimes forget it's there.

"Where's your standard RangeMan issue?"

Bobby means the Glock 17. "Bedroom, but I don't like carrying it. It's heavier."

Bobby smirks. "Only by 3 ounces. ¼ of a pound. Hardly anything. That's the size and weight of a chicken breast."

"Until it's strapped in and I start walking around. Then it feels heavy."

Bobby puts the gun back into the holster and takes my hand. We walk along the beach for a little while.

"I know I said this in NYC, but we're really proud of you, Bomber. Not just with the job." Bobby turns to me, smiling. "We're proud of the work you're doing to pass standards too. We get feedback from Hal and Ram constantly. We can't wait to clear you."

"Thanks, Bobby," I reply softly. "I can't wait to be cleared. I miss being able to get away."

"I know that it's new and it feels invasive but Steph?" Bobby tilts my face up. "The men in Trenton are thrilled that you're a RangeMan, or RangeWoman, now. All we hear are requests to partner you when you're off probation. We've told them that the man that can take on Hector is the lucky one." I laugh. "Hector will never let you go, not even for Ranger."

"Really?" I'm stunned and happy about that. Hector is my partner. I don't want to let him go either.

Bobby nods. "Being partners is more than just getting along. The two individuals really have to learn each other's strengths and weakness. They have to learn to rely on each other and how to anticipate how the other will respond. Ranger and Tank? Damn near psychic to each other. Same for me and Les. I know how that idiot will respond in a heartbeat."

I grin. I've never thought about it but I see it more and more. Bobby and Lester are mirror images of each other.

"I can see it in you and Hector. Hector likes to be needed but he's an incredibly independent person. You like to be independent, but you enjoy being needed and you respond quickly when someone does need you. It's a nice balance. You both trust and respect each other and you love each other. You both care about a few people very deeply and you're intensely loyal to those people. He knows how you will respond and, if you think about it, you know how he will respond.

You two mirror each other so well that I've been surprised this week. I thought you'd still be working through your partnership. Instead, you two manage to do nearly everything without speaking a word." Bobby smirks. "And I think we both know Hector is perfectly capable of communicating with you when the need arises."

I stare at Bobby in shock and he grins. "We allow Hector his deception at Leadership Core level because it keeps mine and Tank's Spanish skills sharp. Otherwise we'd get rusty because we wouldn't have a real reason to speak it."

"Thanks. It means a lot to him," I reply softly. I also appreciate that he didn't ask me to confirm that Hector speaks English. It's Hector's secret. I would have done my best to lie, which is impossible with Bobby.

Bobby nods. "The idea that Hector only speaks Spanish also goes a long way to reinforcing his rep. It works for everyone. We love the fact that he's teaching you. If you want another language," he looks at me and smiles, "Italian. It's the language we use when we want to keep things secret. Just about all the men know Spanish, but only about 3% of the company knows Italian and that's mostly Trenton."

I nod. I'll think about it. Dad would **love **it if I finally learned Italian. "So, if having a partner you know and trust is so important, why did you guys break up Manny and Caesar? Ram and Woody?"

"For the sake of reporting in the office, we broke them up. If we ever took Ram on a mission, we'd take Woody, not Manny. In reality, Ram's 'official' partner is Manny. His de facto partner is Woody. Even now, when Ram has to do things, Woody is the person he calls in the office, right?"

I think about this and Bobby's right.

"That's why Hal's partner remained Junior. Hal and Junior have that relationship. Danny and Marcus have that relationship in Atlanta. Armando is going to be in a world of hurt in Miami because we're taking Diego to San Antonio if you recommend him. That's why he appears to be leaning on Thomas more. The XO usually leans on someone outside the Core Team as his partner. Mando's the only one who doesn't. Javi's childhood friendship with Jorge means that he turns to Jorge first, but his de facto partner in that office is now Mack. The three of them have become a tight partnership, damn near a triad."

I grin at that thought. "Boston?"

"Mark and Victor. Rodney and Pat."

I blow a breath. "I've been walking the beach trying to figure out what to do with Boston. Why did Ranger put Mark in charge in Boston?"

Bobby is quiet. "We all agreed on Mark. When we first started the company, Mark was a superstar. It was a tossup on which branch to give him but we finally decided Mando was a better fit to Miami. Now we're wondering if we made the right call. Mando would do a much better job away from his family and Mark could probably control home office better.

Anyway, Mark was outstanding. Loyal, quick to follow orders and anticipate needs, quick to float ideas up and make suggestions. We could leave him in charge without needing to worry about anything. That was crucial when all four of us went on missions. We needed someone who understood military chain of command. You know how Tank is the point man when Ranger goes solo?" I nod. "Mark is still officially the point man when all four of us go. Or at least he was until we installed you."

My eyes widen. "I don't know anything about military command!"

Bobby exhales and we start walking again. "I know, but your instructions also include directions to reach out to Mark and Hal. Mark's not to be the point person for communications, but between the two of them, they can walk you through."

Bobby stops and stares into the water. "I'm not sure when the change happened but it was apparent when we installed Javier in NYC. Mark went down and damn near took over his office. Tried to order Javi around. Javier was already feeling nervous about performing at our standards and having Mark in his office, intimidating him, didn't help. We were surprised and Ranger took Mark to the mats. Afterwards, it was like having the old Mark back. He was back in his place. He understood what he was supposed to do."

Bobby flops down in the sand and I follow. We stare into the water until Bobby picks up. "When we started scouting Trenton, it started again. This time, Mando and home office and again, Mark had to be body-checked by Ranger to back off. That's when we realized he was aiming to be a partner. That's when we realized he knew too much about the company for his own good. By the time we had the Haywood building up and running, Les and I were begging Ranger to fire him. He was spinning out of control."

Bobby leans back, shaking his head. Bobby's words have confirmed my suspicions. I can't wait to speak to Mark.

* * *

**Rodney's POV**

Today's the last day and I'm pleased with all the work I accomplished. This morning, we took a tour of the new RangeMan corporate site and got an idea for how reporting to top Management will function from now on. Steph has incorporated IT, Accounting, and the housekeepers under her umbrella, so we needed to understand how their spaces were set up.

It's slick. The CO has spaces for each branch to submit their weekly reports electronically, a master calendar for company events, and a suggestion box for those emails she gets from around the company. Hector did a great job building her space and she looks ready to dive in.

We spent the morning discussing how the next phase of the build should operate. Ram suggested a corporate IM.

"For those times when you want to get someone quickly but don't want to phone. Plus, we might be able to cut back on the number of conference lines we pay for. If we could do the pulse checks via IM call, that would be great."

We wrote that as a suggestion. "How many conference lines do we have?" Thomas asked.

"Six. XO, liaison, strategist, mine, and two general purpose ones that can be used for anything," Steph replied. "It's about $800 a month in conference line charges."

Wow. Never knew that.

That wasn't Ram's last idea of the morning. He kept calling stuff until finally, Bobby said, "Is this all the stuff you thought of months ago but never got to present?"

Ram nodded, grinning. Bobby laughed. "Damn. We should've asked you for the list months ago."

"Well, if we get a vote on these, then I agree with the corporate IM," Adam says, "and I'd like to throw another vote to the InfoPath thing he was talking about. A standard web-based form product that would not only handle those client requests, but could also be used for travel and expense reporting? Incident reporting? All the forms we currently have to fill out? That would be great. And according to what I'm reading online, those forms could automatically fill in our new RangeWorld lists and libraries." Adam grinned. "Great payoff there." He and Ram high-fived.

Steph laughed and wrote it down. "Ram, you write the ideas up and work on a case for why we should use each one." Ram groaned and we laughed. "We'll send it out for a vote so Hector can prep the men for each option. Meanwhile, let's talk about the company." We set the laptops aside and faced her. "I'm pleased to see the decrease in gossip around the company. It's nice to know that when I hear news now, it's more likely to be facts than fiction. Anything else I need to know?"

We all thought about it. Finally, everyone shook his head. "OK, good. Well, as always I'm ready to listen whenever you need to talk to me."

"Same for me," Bobby said. "I was here this week not just to work on RangeWorld, but also to spend some time with each of you and let you know how much the Leadership depends on you and your work in the company. We're proud of you and we read your submissions very closely." I hope I didn't squirm. "We pay attention. I know that many of you don't hear directly from us, or me, very often, but it doesn't mean we're not watching. You can always call me for anything you need. Don't hesitate. RangeMan brotherhood applies to all of you." We nod, small smiles on our faces.

The party breaks up and we all packed to go home. I had a four hour ride ahead of me, on a Friday. Make that five hours, since I would have to pass outside NYC during rush hour. I decided to take one last stroll along the beach and ran into the CO. She smiled.

"I'm giving you and Pat a reprieve until I talk to Mark." I smiled, grateful. "Don't mistake me. You're still in the shit with me." Smile gone and I nodded. "What I need to know, no lying Rodney, is why. Why on earth did you and Pat choose to do something so foolish?"

I looked the CO in the eye. I knew she'd ask and I've been ready for the question. "Because we didn't think you'd notice or care. Because we wondered how closely you really pay attention to the company. Because the only spot in the company where we aren't number one is in Bonds Enforcement and now we're hearing that we're about to slip in Redecorating, Bodyguard Services, and Client Services. We were stunned and desperate to show that we were still number one. We didn't want to slip. We didn't want Ranger wondering when we'd lost our edge.

Then we heard the company was in trouble, or at least Charlotte, a branch we knew nothing about, was in trouble. We know you hate Mark or at least that you don't like him. We assumed you wouldn't turn to us for advice or help. We wanted to help right the ship. We didn't want Ranger wondering why we did nothing to help."


	61. Cuteness Overload

**A/N: Whew! Two weeks of heavy topics. Now for some FUN!**

* * *

**Chapter 61: Cuteness Overload**

**Steph's POV**

I flop back on the couch. Hector's gone to pick up Nikki and Hector Manuel from the airport, and Nancy is cleaning the house.

"Less mess this time."

I grin. "I'm doing leadership retreats with the company. The men cook and clean and I enjoy life."

Nancy laughs. "Good for you. If you provide the space, they do the work. That sounds fair to me."

I walk into the kitchen and peer into the tank. Rex is snoozing. My poor baby. I've barely thought about him but the Trenton man each week took over 'Rex duty'. The other strategists and liaisons laughed each time.

* * *

_Flashback in Italics_

"_Gotta make sure Rex is fed," Manny says, filling Rex's bowls with hamster nuggets and water. The guys crowd around and look. Les and I poke each other on the couch. _

"_Really?" Jorge asks. "This is a serious duty?"_

_Manny nods. "In the horrible event of the CO's demise, custody of Rex passes to our office. Believe me, we like any pet who willfully and joyfully bites the unworthy."_

"_The unworthy?" Chase asks, eyebrow raised._

_I sigh from the couch. "He means my ex, referred to at RMTrenton as 'The Cop'. Joe Morelli."_

_Lester and Manny smirk while the guys all nod._

"_He partial to a particular type of hamster nugget?" Diego asks, pulling out a notepad. I collapse in giggles._

"_Nah. He'll eat just about anything, but he prefers Tastykakes, doughnuts and raisins. Hamster pellets next. Don't insult him with lettuce."_

"_So, he eats the diet of his owner?" Manny asks, smirking._

_Lester and I collapse in laughs on the couch. The next week, it was the same response._

"_Yo, Steph?" Ram calls._

"_Yeah?"_

"_You feed the office mascot?"_

_I peer into the tank. The rest of the liaisons crowd around me. "Nah. Manny refilled everything on the first day, but it looks like we need a refill. Definitely some water."_

_Ram reaches for the water bowl. Rex comes rushing out of his can to defend his food bowl. I see the remnants of a churro._

"_Yo, little dude, I'm not grabbing the food. Just going for the water," Ram says softly. I see Rex's beady eyes watching Ram closely for signs that he might try to steal his treats._

_Bobby laughs from the couch. "The rat's defending his territory again?"_

"_He's not a rat!" I cry, turning around to face Bobby. "He's a hamster, an attack hamster."_

"_I know," Bobby says, grinning. "I'd like to see him attack more often. I'd like to see him attack his favorite target more often."_

_I sigh. "You guys love wishing Joe the worst, don't you?"_

"_Nope," Ram says. "We like wishing Joe gets exactly what he deserves."_

_I shake my head. "You know, he is a good guy," I say softly, leaving the room, but I still hear Bobby's response._

"_Yeah, but he's not the right guy for you, Bomber."_

* * *

I call Tank. I'm not sure if he plans to show for XO week and, as the chief XO, he's certainly welcome. Problem is, I think I need him not to show. I need time with Mark and Armando to determine if what I'm thinking is correct.

"Tank!"

"Hey, Little Girl!"

"How's it going?"

"Got a personal question for you, Stephanie." I sit. Tank called me Stephanie. This is going to be big. "If you had to choose, am I a blue man or a yellow one?"

I stare at the phone. "Huh?" Tank's a black man. I'm confused on so many levels here.

"Just …which color? Which color could you see me in?"

I start smiling. "Neither, but if I had to put you in one, blue. You are not a yellow man."

I can hear Tank exhale and I soon hear Lula's voice. "Girl, you didn't vote for teal did you?"

"Yeah. Wait, teal?" I thought Tank said blue.

"Yes, teal. Damn, Steph! You were supposed to vote for yellow! I know Tankie. This entire damn apartment will be black and teal and it'll be boring as hell."

"Not with you there, Lula. Besides, teal is a vibrant color. That's pretty loud for someone like Tank. How many colors are you trying to put in that apartment?"

"Well, Grace, she's the decorator, came back with this all-black color scheme that Tank loves. I mean, grey walls, black floors, looks like a fucking dungeon." I laugh. That does sound grim. "But she met me halfway with purple, teal, and yellow to liven it up."

I think about it and laugh. The main color is black. Tank will ignore everything else. "Sounds like a good compromise."

"I thought so too until they started painting. Now I'm not so sure. It's not bright enough. I wanna put more color on the walls and Tank don't wanna hear that." I can hear Lula sniff. "I need to be comfortable too."

"Yeah, but Lula, your apartment isn't comfortable on the eyes. Too much color. Too many things going on. The apartment is supposed to be a place to rest from the insanity going on downstairs."

There's silence on the line. I think of a solution. "Look, has Tank discussed buying a permanent home?"

"Yeah. We went house hunting. It was a bust."

Damn. OK. "Look, you may want to call Mary Lou. I mean, she's the only one of us who's married. She may be able to help you better than I can."

"Yeah, you're right!" I can hear Lula perk up. "Call the married woman. She'll know what to do. Thanks girl! How's the beach?"

"Beautiful! Just waiting for Hector to show up with his cousin and son."

"Son? I thought Hector was gay?"

"He is. His son is actually his cousin."

"Oh. One of them relationships. I get it. Cool. You still need to talk to Tank?"

"Yeah."

She passes the phone back over to Tank. "Thanks, Little Girl."

"No problem. I would've vetoed the yellow right away."

Tank chuckles. "OK, so what's up?"

"Are you coming for XO week?"

Tank exhales. "Yeah, but I got a couple of bids here I need to follow up on so I may join you later. Say Monday evening. Why? You need me there badly?"

"Actually, it would help me more if you didn't come."

Silence on the line. "Ok …."

"Not that you aren't welcome, Tank," I hurry to tell him. "But I already know I'm ripping Mark a new one. I also know I'm going to have to have a long talk with Armando. I kinda want to confront them on my own."

Again, silence on the line, then, "If you need me, I'll be there in hours. Just let me know. I mean it, Little Girl."

"Will do, Tank! Enjoy decorating with Lula." I hear Tank groan as I hang up.

I stretch out on the couch and smile. This week is Nikki, Hector Manuel, and Hector. Hec reminded me that his cousin knows he speaks English, so we can all speak English this week. Thank god. Keeping up the ruse this past week was killing me.

* * *

My nap is interrupted by tiny fingers poking my cheek.

"_Angita! Angita!"_ Hector Manuel is trying, but it's so cute to hear him mangle his uncle's name for me. I sit up and stretch and Hector Manuel climbs right into my lap.

"_Angita! I missed you and we took a plane here and we flew through the air and it was a long ride and Uncle picked us up and we drove and drove and drove to see you and Uncle said we get to stay with you and go play in the big water . . . "_

I blink at the onslaught. My Spanish is getting much better. I understand ¾ of what he's saying as long as I pay close attention. Nikki is beaming at me.

"Can you tell he was excited?"

"Just a bit," I laugh. Hector walks in with the suitcases and carries them upstairs. Nikki is staying in one of the large bedrooms and Hector and Hector Manuel are sharing one of the rooms with the twin beds. I smile. Anything for his son.

Nikki smiles. "Manny, come on. Let's clean up and get ready for dinner."

"No!" Hector Manuel pouts, grabbing on to me. I smile and stand up, holding him on my hip.

"Bath time?"

"Yup," Nikki replies. "Sometimes this is a fight, other times he goes right in."

"Look, I know you're tired from the plane ride. I'll wash him and you can wash up in the master."

"Thanks, girl. You're a lifesaver." Nikki smiles gratefully and heads upstairs. I immediately search for Hector.

"Hey, I offered Nikki my bathroom to clean up and said I'd wash Hector Manuel. Never done this before." As usual, my mouth got ahead of my brain. "Help!"

Hector grins. "Easiest thing in the world. Run a lukewarm bath, strip him down and let him sit and play for a while. Biggest thing is you have to sit there with him. I'll find his bath toys. By the way, he goes by Manny, too."

Hector goes to search Hector Manuel's luggage. I look at Hector Manuel, Manny. I have two Mannys now and he's grinning.

"Whaddya say, Manny? Bath time?"

He contemplates the question before nodding and telling me about his toys. I walk to the bathroom and follow Hector's instructions. Hector appears with bubble bath and bath toys soon after I start running the water. By the time I have Manny stripped [and he pushed me out the bathroom in order to pee ("_Piracy!_")] and in the tub, Nikki is back, looking calm and rested.

It's a crowded bathroom. Manny is having fun in the bath and we're all watching him and smiling. Cute, well behaved, and missing his curls.

"You cut his hair?"

"Yeah," Nikki replies. "Someone complimented me on my adorably curly-haired little girl, so it was past time for a trim."

Hector snorts. I know my partner. I can see him thinking _Damn right. My son is __**not**__ a girl._

"Not a girl," Manny mutters, diving his Pokemón toys in the bath. Hec and I smile and switch places so Hector can wash Manny down. He pulls the plug and wraps Manny in a towel. Manny immediately wraps himself around my legs.

"He's going to stick to you all week," Nikki laughs. "I hope you're ready."

"I don't spend that much time around kids. They scare me." I pick Manny up and take him to the bedroom he and Hector are sharing.

Nikki looks at me and smiles. "Well, at the moment, you look like a natural. Hector Manuel doesn't really like people at first sight and he loves you. I was pretty shocked by that in Atlanta. He asked about you for days after you left."

Manny is fighting me on the shirt. The undies and pants went on OK, but I finally give up on the shirt. Everything is Pokemón. _Sigh_. When I was a kid, it was all Superman and Wonder Woman. Now it's . . . what **is** a Pokemón? Now that it's clear I've given up on the shirt, Manny runs for the living room, but Hector picks him up at the staircase and whirls him around, playing airplane. Manny laughs and screams for his _tío_ to put him down and they head down the stairs, hand in hand.

OK, it's official: Hector Manuel just might be the only kid I like. Cute, well-mannered, and I miss his curls. We'll have to see if he has another temper tantrum this week. I turn to Nikki. "That exhausted me! How do you do it?"

She laughs. "Constantly juggling my schedule. I'm mommy and daddy so I can't slip. I have to have it together." I nod, smiling. "Hector is such a huge help. I don't know how he does it, but he can scold Manny from New Jersey and it's just as effective as if I'd done it in person." She grins. "He can scold me from New Jersey and it's as effective as if he'd done it in person."

I laugh. "OK, so I'm not alone!" We head down the stairs to the kitchen. Hector and Manny are on the living room floor playing with toy cars.

"Oh god, no! Hector's such an old woman. Always worrying, always watching. He tell you he made me move?" I shake my head and Nikki tells me about Hector's call after some gang guys came to the house. "I have to admit, I take Hector's warnings seriously and he really does try to respect my need to feel like I'm in charge of my life and Manny's. He sent Cindy to help me find a house and we found a really nice townhouse in Atlanta. Nice area, good schools, gated community. We're supposed to close in a few weeks."

"A few weeks?"

"Yeah. Hector wants to hide the ownership of the house to make it harder to find us, so he's doing something. He said he got the idea from Ranger."

I shake my head. Anything for his son. "Well, I'm glad you and Manny will be safe. I have to admit, he's about the only well-behaved child I know."

Nikki grins. "You know what?" I tilt my head. "When Manny was first learning to talk and walk, I panicked all the time about everything. I was on the phone sobbing to Hector one night and he said, 'Stop thinking of my son as some alien. Hector Manuel is just a small person. He has the same reactions, the same desires. He just has fewer words. Teach him words so he can tell you what he wants.'"

My eyes widen. Hmm ….

"So, whenever one of my girlfriends becomes a mom, that's exactly what I tell her. Stop looking at your baby like they're this impossible to understand creature. Children are people too. They just have fewer words."

"That's it?" I ask, incredulous. "That's the secret?" We've been in the kitchen and I've somehow been conned into making another salad. Nikki is pan-frying chicken breasts and steaming green beans.

Nikki laughs. "There's more, but that's the biggest thing. You have to learn to understand your child. As they get older, they learn more words and they can communicate. But babies? You just have to figure out what need isn't being met and meet it." She grins and leans close. "When Manny was a baby, I audited a child development class at GSU. Made a world of difference. Any time I don't understand, I pull that book out and read. Try to figure out where Manny is developmentally."

"My mother would try to take over and lecture me all the time. I'm sure she can't wait."

Nikki frowned. "I'd kill for some attention from our family. Hector is really it. When I got pregnant, everyone wanted me to end it. I had a great scholarship to a different college." I nod, solemnly. "Hector came down and said that he'd support me no matter what I did. Keep the baby, get rid of the baby, he would be behind me."

"That sounds like Hector."

"Thank god for it. He was my only support for months. I moved here because of his _situation_"–she looks at me meaningfully and I nod. Yeah, those murder allegations Hector was fighting at the time– "then moved back when school started. Hector stayed with me in Atlanta, working out of the office there while I went to school. Hector was there for the 2 a.m. feedings and the diaper changes and the colic that nearly drove me mad. He was there for the shots and the smiles and the teething. Hector is Manny's father, no matter how he tries to deny it."

I laugh. "Yeah, Hector thinks and refers to him as '_mijo'_ all the time. Has the rest of your family come around?"

"Yeah, it's getting better. My mother will babysit on weekends and whenever she can, especially if she doesn't have to work. She'll take him in a heartbeat if I get a date." Nikki's nose scrunches and I smile. "She's desperate for me to get married and legitimize Manny. I told her that whoever I marry, Manny has to agree. Hector told her that whoever I marry, **he** has to agree and the man will get a full background profile done by him personally. No one is getting close to his son without him digitally strip searching the poor guy." I fall out laughing, which leads Hector to look around the corner, frowning. I shake my head and he returns to the living room. Nikki smiles. "My dad is really starting to help too, especially now that Hector can walk and talk."

I laugh. "Well, Manny has lots of words. He just has them in two languages." Speak of the devil. Hector and Manny walk into the kitchen and Manny hugs his mother's legs. Nikki picks him up and sits at the table with him while Hector finishes off dinner.

Dinner is quiet. It's clear Manny is fighting sleep and halfway through dinner, he falls asleep right at the table, still clutching a piece of chicken. I giggle while Hector cleans him up and puts him to bed. We finish dinner and, while wrapping up the few leftovers, Nikki surveys the fridge.

"Oh. My. God. Please tell me this is Hector's bread pudding with _dulce de leche_!"

"Touch that and you die!" I move to the fridge to protect my dessert (Oh My God, it's spectacular!) but Nikki blocks my access to the fridge.

Nikki looks at me and grins. "Are you prepared to give your life for it? Cuz I'm ready. That's considered bribe food in my family."

"Any sweets given to me by the RMTrenton men are bribe food. I'm ready. Besides, you're a mother. You can't give your life for sugar!"

Hector has been watching this for the last few minutes and laughing. "How about I just make another pan?"

Nikki and I eye each other. Nice, but there's still a serving left in the fridge. Hector solves the problem by eating it himself.

Nikki and I look at each other and nod. We'll kill him **after** he makes another pan.

* * *

Nikki was right. Hector Manuel attached himself to me all week. He loved to chat with me, play with my hair and follow me everywhere. At first, it made me nervous, especially since Nikki and Hector seemed to find it so amusing. By Sunday, I was on to Hector's little scheme: Make _Angelita_ spend time with the adorable little boy she can't resist and let's see if we can get her clock ticking. _Sniff_. I'm on to you, Hector, but you're right: Manny is too adorable to resist.

I thought about what Bobby said, about partners learning to think like each other, and I realized he's right. I can tell when Hector's up to something now and I know he can read me. I can't practice blank face with him anymore.

I took Manny to the beach to build sandcastles and learned that little boys prefer demolishing sand castles to building them. We chased waves and ate cotton candy on the beach (Nikki is right. Hector is such a worry wart: "Not too much, _Angelita_. It's not good for his teeth!"), and kicked a soccer ball around the backyard. I fell asleep at the dinner table Tuesday night and woke to the sounds of Nikki and Hector laughing. I still had a piece of chicken on my fork when it happened.

I honestly didn't mind spending time with Manny. I never saw my nieces at this age and Lisa is still a screamer. Hector Manuel had a tantrum at the beach, but I remembered what Nikki said and tried to figure out what was wrong. I did what Hector did in Atlanta: I sat next to him, rubbed his back, and waited for him to calm down. Turns out, he was hungry and hot, so I took him home, gave him a quick bath and let him enjoy some apple slices. I felt brilliant. Nikki was right! It wasn't that hard.

Doesn't mean I want one any time soon though.

* * *

We run out of salad ingredients on Wednesday (my one contribution to meals) so I decide to try something dangerous.

"Nikki?"

"Yeah?" Nikki is in the backyard sunbathing and reading a Kindle book. Hector's on the beach. Nikki and I laughed. Nikki's pretty sure Hector's out man-hunting and if we join him, that'll ruin his good time. I **really** want to see what Hector's like on the prowl but she tells me that I don't. It's not very different from normal, she says. I dunno. I've seen Hector at Chippendales.

"I need to pick up some supplies from the grocery store and Manny's out of books. You mind if I take him with me to the store?"

Nikki grins. "Sure! Let me outfit you."

I quickly learn that no trip to any store happens quickly. Nikki passes me her baby bag (toddler snacks, emergency undies and wipes, bottled water, toys) and we hunt for Hector's car keys. We decide to leave the car seat in his Lexus. I stare at the car and hope it isn't an expensive one. I'd hate to blow up Hector's personal car.

The Barnes and Noble is 15 minutes away, so I strap Manny in the car seat and we head there first. This must be a favorite store because Manny immediately finds the children's area. We spend an hour looking at different books and I purchase quite a few. I also purchase a few books for each of my nieces and make a note to stop and get a shipping box.

We hit the grocery store next. Nikki's advice had been crystal clear: Feed him a snack, remind him that he can get **one** thing, and strap him into the shopping cart. Otherwise he'd tip it trying to get to the stuff on the shelves. I feed Manny some apple slices as we leave the B&N and we stop at the Stop and Shop 15 minutes later.

"Store, _Angita_?"

I smile and strap him in the shopping cart. "Yup. Remember: **one thing**."

Manny scowls but nods. I quickly grab lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, a red onion, and croutons. I'm trying to decide on salad dressing when Manny tugs my shirt.

"Me too!"

I put the ranch dressing in the cart. "OK, what do you want?"

He grins. "Ice cream!"

I laugh. A child after my own heart. I zoom over to the frozen aisle and run right into Julie Wisneski. One of Val's friends and head of the PTA. The kind of woman who reminds you that you're still a nobody even after all these years. Great. I guess this little trip will update the book in Trenton.

"Stephanie Plum?"

"Julie. Hi! How are you?" I'm hoping to escape without injury.

"I'm fine." Julie looks stunned to see me. Her three kids are in the basket, screaming. "I never thought I'd run into _you_ here." She peers at Manny. "Adorable little boy. Is he your . . . friend's?" I can tell she's trying to ask about Ranger.

"My training partner's nephew."

Her face clearly shows "Aha!" and she peers into the basket. Jesus, she's nosy. "On a diet?"

"No." I'm trying to decide on ice cream flavors. Phish Food? Chunky Monkey? Cherry Garcia? Half Baked? So many choices.

Manny grabs the Phish Food and grins. "Mine!"

I laugh. "OK. That's yours. Now, I need to pick out one." I finally decide on Half Baked and Cherry Garcia.

Manny blinks. "Two," he says, holding up two fingers and pointing. I smile. He's a busy little man, counting ice creams and trying to pull the top off the Phish Food. I push the top back on and put it in the cart.

I grin. "One for Tío." Hector will never eat it.

Manny tilts his head then nods. "OK. Now?" He starts twisting in the seat trying to reach the ice cream again.

"Let's get home first." I pass him the baggie of apple slices and he abandons the pursuit of the ice cream to happily munch away.

The entire time, Julie has been watching us in astonishment. "He's so well behaved." Her kids are still screaming and I feel smug. She smiles. "So, what brings you to the beach?"

"Vacation." I'm done here and it's none of your business. "See you later, Julie."

I wave but I don't give her time to respond before heading toward the registers. The fact that I was here, with a child, will be all over Trenton before the night is through and my mother will call all night. Working at RangeMan and not being in the field, I haven't had to deal with that and I've enjoyed it. I still want to get back out there though.

It's something else to consider. I wonder which question that falls under on Ella's list.

* * *

Sure enough, my phone starts ringing an hour later.

"Hi, Mom. Yes, I was seen with a child in Point Pleasant. It's Hector's nephew."

Silence on the other end then, "Hello Stephanie. It's good to hear from you. You haven't called since we left. How have you been?"

Great. A lecture on manners. _Sigh_. "Fine, Mom. Sorry. Thought I would just go ahead and answer the questions I knew were coming."

"You have no idea what I intended to ask."

Yeah right. "I might not have an idea of all the questions you might ask, but I'm sure the gossip in Trenton is that I was seen grocery shopping with a Hispanic child in Point Pleasant. I thought I might go ahead and answer those questions."

"Stephanie, I already guessed the child was related to Hector." Really? "Yes. You said Ranger has a daughter. Hector was the only possibility left, plus you were seen driving a Lexus and Mother says Hector has a Lexus. She won't tell me how she knows that though. Anyway, I wanted to ask if the baby needed anything. Do you have everything you need to care for him for a week?"

I'm stunned. I honestly have no idea how to answer. "Uh . . . yeah. Actually, Hector's here with his cousin and the baby is almost three."

"OK. What are their names?"

"The child is Hector Manuel and his mother's name is Nikki."

"OK. Are you sure you have everything you need?"

"Yes. They leave Friday. We're fine here."

"OK. That was my only concern. I didn't think you were equipped for children, other than that crib, and if you needed a high seat or stroller, we could easily get you one."

**Who are you?** "Umm …no, we're OK here. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Goodbye, Stephanie."

"Bye, Mom."

I walk back into the living room and sit on the couch, shocked.

"_Angelita_?" Hector looks worried and concerned. I tell him what happened on my little shopping trip and about the call with Mom. Hector's eyebrows shoot up.

"Yeah. Exactly."

Hector nods slowly and we consider the possibilities. Alien abduction? Lobotomy? Personality transplant?

My phone rings non-stop the rest of the night, but I ignore it. The important call had been taken care of.

* * *

**Hector's POV**

I need to think of a way to thank _Angelita_ for her hospitality. My son spent his time either playing in the sand (_Dios mio!_ How many places can a little boy get sand wedged on himself?), playing in the water (nothing over knee high. Those waves look dangerous.) and playing futból in the grassy backyard. Best of all, _Angelita_ showed none of her customary fear with children.

Before Nikki arrived, I asked her to allow _Angelita_ to spend time with _Mijo_ and take care of his needs. Nikki was surprised, then thrilled. It really would be a vacation for her. I confided that _Angelita_ was scared of children but she seemed to be OK with _Mijo_, so I wanted to gently push her into a Mom role. I was betting she wouldn't even notice she ended up taking care of him all week.

"Is that fair to her, Hector? I mean, she's at the beach to relax. Children aren't always relaxing," Nikki said, a frown on her face.

"True. But I think that this could be very good for her. Manny is not a baby and can express his needs but he's not so old that you have to deal with an attitude. He's just the right age to give her some experience. _Angelita_ is surrounded by . . . "I searched for an appropriate word, then gave up. "Brats, at best. All the children she knows are not well-mannered children. Manny is. She needs to see that children can be well-behaved and well-raised."

Nikki smiled. "Thanks, _primo_."

I patted her hand. "You know _Mijo_ is a very good little boy. You are doing a wonderful job, mommy. Now, you need to meet the right man and give my son a daddy."

Nikki stuck her tongue out at me then grinned. "He has a daddy. You. You will always be his daddy."

I looked at her out the side of my eye. "I will always be _Tío_. I can't be Daddy." I shuddered playfully. "How could we explain that? You're my cousin and Manny looks nothing like me."

Nikki looked at me, laughed, and punched my arm.

* * *

The plan went off like a dream. I'm pretty certain _Angelita_ figured it out because she was giving me knowing looks by Sunday afternoon. By Monday, _Angelita_ didn't even look concerned that Manny followed her everywhere. On the contrary. She took him to the beach, to the boardwalk, and even played with him. She gave him his bath every night and dressed him. ("He doesn't seem to like shirts," she told Nikki, who smirked. "He's just started consenting to pants," Nikki replied.) I still did story time, but Manny also read to all of us.

It was wonderful. I woke up every day with his warm heavy weight on my chest. No matter how many times I put him in the bed by himself, he always climbed in with me the next morning. I woke to find Nikki and _Angelita_ taking pictures Wednesday morning. Even I had to laugh at them later. _Mijo_ had stretched out all across my chest, with his fist in my face and his foot uncomfortably close to _Tío's _jewels. Meanwhile, I'd gone to sleep with my tongue sticking out, so it looked like _Mijo_ had successfully punched his _Tío_ out for the count.

Nikki and Stephanie spent time on the boardwalk laughing and having fun. My heart hurts for my _Angelita_. She is having fun with Nikki, but I can see the pain of her sister's betrayal is deep.

I decide to do some digging. I ask Hal if anyone is available to go check up on the bookie keeping the pot on Morelli vs. Mañoso. Find out how it's updated, who updates it and how they're paid.

Vince calls back three hours later. "_I went. Hal's not good at calculating odds._"

"_And?_"

"_Book is updated on Wednesday nights. Valerie is not paid to keep it informed. Until recently, it was based on the gossip assumptions of Mrs. Plum and the number of trips to the alley between Bombshell and Ranger, although they were also basing odds on other gossip occasionally passed along by Valerie."_

I'm pissed by almost all of that. The alley trips put _Angelita_'s reputation in question, Mrs. Plum's gossip means people make money off her child, and Valerie is gossiping about her sister._ "Who's paid to keep it informed?"_

"_No one. It's all based on gossip and sightings. The more the CO is spotted in the company of one man or the other or the more often the CO does favors for Ranger, that's how the odds are calculated. Who does she spend more time with? The assumption is the person winning in face time will be the ultimate winner."_

"_Until recently?"_

"_Yeah. Apparently, the book was based primarily on how often Mrs. Plum mentioned The Cop in her conversations. Now that Steph is working here and Mrs. Plum appears to have become a RangeMan fan, according to the gossip, the book is in uproar. It went from even money odds to strongly tilting to Ranger, then it blew."_

Hmm …Mrs. Plum is a RangeMan fan? Still, she remains on probation. _"Addition of the RangeMan votes?"_

"_RangeMen betting on the draw threw the pot out of whack. It's nearly meaningless now. It was paying 20-1 on Ranger. Now, it's paying 10-1 on Ranger, 8-1 on The Cop and 2-1 on the CO. It was 15-1 on Ranger, but gossip says the CO was seen with a Hispanic kid in Point Pleasant. Temporary bump but I'd bet that the odds will change to 8-1 on Ranger, which makes him even odds with The Cop. First time ever."_

Perfect. It's still tilted in Ranger's favor, but anyone betting now isn't going to win much. "_Odds before RangeMen joined the pot?_"

"_20-1 on Ranger, 15-1 on The Cop._" Nice. "_Anyone who bet on Ranger was going to make a fortune before we upset the pot. Now they'll still make some money, but not much. If we can get The Cop to 100-1 odds, the pot will be meaningless._"

"_How do we do that?"_ It would make me very happy if he was out completely, but Ranger says he's still alive. Damn.

"_He has to remove himself from the pot somehow. Death, incapacitation, and marriage will all do the trick. At that point he becomes a non-runner and Ranger wins by default. Something interesting I learned."_

"_Go on."_

"_Odds were almost decimated because Valerie called both men non-runners two weeks ago."_ After the family visit to the beach. Interesting. I guess she decided to take her sister's words seriously.

"_How does Stephanie win?"_

"_If both Ranger and The Cop are removed from the pot. This is part of betting Hal doesn't get. Voting for the CO is still voting for an outcome. In this case, you're voting that she chooses neither. So …"_ Vince is nervous, but he presses on, "_every RangeMan in the pot actually has two bets in."_

"_Explain."_

"_We bet on the draw, although that's not the desired outcome. We also bet on Ranger. That's the desired outcome. His odds are still running high only because he's not here and he's still considered a long-shot in the Burg's eyes. He's not Burg so they don't really want to bet on him to win. They'd rather see the hometown boy win."_

"_If The Cop removes himself from the pot first . . . "_

"_No payout until there's resolution on Ranger. That's why every man has two bets in. The pot wouldn't pay unless Ranger died, was incapacitated, or married someone else. That's why betting on the draw threw the pot off. We went from two acknowledged outcomes to three. If the CO marries someone else, then she wins. If the CO and Ranger get together, Ranger wins."_

Ah. So yes, bets on Ranger are the preferred outcome. "_Good job. Thanks, Vince_." _**Click**._

I find _Angelita_ on the beach with my son. They look cute, building another sand castle for _Mijo_ to destroy.

"I did some checking on the book." _Angelita_ looks at me with a frown. "We've decimated it."

She grins. "How?"

I plop on the sand and attempt to create a window. "You need to talk to Vince about it because he understands odds, but he said that the RangeMen betting on 'the draw' ruined the book. Bets on you are paying 2-1. Bets on Ranger are paying 10-1 at the moment but Vince expects it to die down to 8-1. Bets on Morelli are paying 8-1."

"Meaning?"

"For the first time, Ranger and Morelli are tied but you're winning. Bets on you are 2-1, meaning it's being acknowledged as the most likely choice." Angelita smiles happily. "The fact that RangeMen are the ones voting for you meant that the bookie had to take it seriously. The RangeMen would be considered as having inside information. If they appear to be betting against their boss, he and Morelli don't look like good odds right now. Also, your sister is not paid to inform on you. The book was based on your mother's enthusiasm for Morelli and how much time you spent with Ranger."

_Angelita_ nods thoughtfully. Manny creates another window in the sandcastle then destroys it.

* * *

Ranger calls Thursday night.

"_Yo!"_

"_Yo!"_

"_I have some digging I need you to do in Newark ASAP. I need you to follow up with the Newark Reyes on the stuff I'll send you."_

"_OK."_ My voice is ice cold. I'm still furious about what Vince told me about those alley trips.

"_Babe?"_

"_Fine."_ Silence, but I can last as long he can.

"_Hector?"_

"_Did you know that the book on your woman is partially based on your trips to the alley with her?"_ Silence and the longer it stretches the more certain I am. He knew. _"Why?"_

Silence, then, _"Let's see how well you handle it when it's your turn, Hec."_ _**Click**_.

I leave the house and walk the beach. I try to learn from everything I see around me and one thing I've learned is not to blame one person or another in any situation, especially romantic ones. Blame can always be shared and, in this instance, my _Angelita_ shares some blame. She allowed my brother liberties while in a relationship with another man. She contributed to the gossip about her. She hates gossip but she fed it just as much as her mother and sister.

_Sigh_. I hope Lester's and Ella's plans work. I love them both so much and this insanity between them has to end.

I look around. There's a man on the other end of the boardwalk. Tall, willowy, tan . . . nice ass. He looks over and smiles. I must not look scary right now. Let's go try my luck.

* * *

**A/N: Two side stories, Cold Water and Boundaries.**


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